


The Nine

by AMidnightDreary



Series: BDSM Spite Fics [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asgardian Tony Stark, Attraction, Banter, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Cuddling & Snuggling, Demisexual Tony Stark, Developing Relationship, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Consent, Face Slapping, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Insecure Loki (Marvel), Loki Gets a Hug (Marvel), Loki is a brat and does not know when to stop, M/M, Mutual Pining, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Painplay, Secret Relationship, Spanking, Sparring, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Sub Loki (Marvel), Tony is the softest dom okay I don't make the rules, and Tony has the biggest crush on him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27228400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMidnightDreary/pseuds/AMidnightDreary
Summary: When Prince Loki comes to Anthony's smithy with a proposition, Anthony is first angry, then stunned, and finally intrigued.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: BDSM Spite Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987924
Comments: 113
Kudos: 465





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoveReignsSupreme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveReignsSupreme/gifts).



> This is a... very.... belated birthday gift to LoveReignsSupreme, who is wonderful, full stop. ❤ It's also the first of eight spite fics I'm writing in reaction to an anon being rude on tumblr, so there's that.
> 
> Thanks to Rabentochter for reading this beforehand. What would I do without you 😭

Anthony is used to seeing high-ranked citizens of Asgard in his smithy. Every day, he takes commissions from wealthy business people, from arrogant noblemen, from royalty. Even the crown prince has a few weapons that Anthony made, so yes, he _is_ used to dealing with people who are, technically, above him in rank. Things like that do not really mean anything to him and he certainly doesn't cower at anyone’s feet - well, unless he is in the mood -, but he does know how to use the connections he has, and how to make new ones. Contrary to popular belief, he can be polite and agreeable when the situation calls for it. He is also very good at telling _when_ a situation calls for it.

And he knows that this _is_ a situation that called for it.

Prince Loki looks a little lost, standing there in the middle of the room amidst swords and spears and armour, and he tries to hide it by keeping his back straight and his chin high, a challenging look in his green eyes. Anthony has seen him like this before; it is the same look the prince wears at court, when he holds speeches or sits quietly next to his brother. It is the same look he wears when he is sparring, just seconds before he draws one of his knives.

Anthony swallows. When he heard the bell that chimes every time a customer opens the door to his shop, he expected to see just about everyone except the man who is standing in front of him right now. But Anthony doesn't show that he was shocked - he feels like that is exactly what the prince expects -, instead he puts on the smile that is reserved for his best customers, wide and open and charming. He even bows - not lowly, but low enough that it can't be written off as mockery.

“My Prince,” he says. “To what do I owe the honour?”

Prince Loki looks at him, and then at the displayed swords, his expression unreadable. “I have a… proposition.”

Anthony raises a brow. “Oh?”

Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Loki came to a smith, after all, of course he wants Anthony to make something for him. Still, Anthony didn't expect to ever forge a weapon for the younger prince. He has no idea where Loki got his daggers - magic, maybe? -, but he has certainly never seen him buying them on the market.

Loki nods very slowly, his eyes fixed on Anthony. "Yes."

Anthony waits for him to continue, to explain what kind of weapon he wants, but Loki stays silent. After a long moment, Anthony says, "Well, you've come to the right place. I know you are fond of daggers, maybe -"

"No," Loki interrupts coolly. "Not that kind of proposition."

Anthony blinks. "Oh. Uh - what kind of proposition, then?"

Loki's brows twitch into a frown and he looks away again, as if - as if he can't bring himself to hold Anthony's gaze. What is that, hesitation?

"Yes…?" Anthony asks after a long moment, his tone careful. He knows that most people wouldn't dare to interrupt the prince's thought process, but Anthony isn't polite like that, and it looks like Loki needs some encouragement to speak his mind.

Which is, admittedly, a little odd. Anthony had never seen the prince hesitate before speaking - the prince has the quickest and most failsafe tongue in the Nine Realms - and by now he was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Well, uncomfortable _and_ intrigued, because whatever the prince wants, it has to be something interesting. 

“I saw you,” Loki says finally, speaking slowly and carefully and keeping his gaze stoically fixed on Anthony. “Last week.”

At once, Anthony’s thoughts run wild. Last week? He did a million things last week, but there's only one that justifies Loki’s… hesitance. A dozen alarm bells begin to ring in Anthony’s head.

There is a certain establishment in one of Asgard’s less noble districts, called _The Nine,_ and Anthony can be seen there rather often. It's discreet enough that most people don't even know what _kind_ of establishment it is, which is good because the patrons place great value on their privacy. Of course they do; they all want to avoid scandals. Their lives depend on that, after all. 

It's probably a surprise for everyone who knows him, but Anthony is very careful. When it comes to this, at least. He only makes advances toward people he knows he can trust, and he turns everyone down who seems suspicious in any way. He also always notes who was present when _he_ is present, so that he knows exactly who might have seen him do “questionable” things. 

He never noticed that one of the princes were there, too. And he certainly would have noticed Loki - he always notices Loki.

Maybe Loki means something else. He _has_ to mean something else, because if he means what Anthony thinks he means, he has to throw him out, no matter that he's a prince and that Anthony doesn't actually _want_ to throw him out.

“Where did you see me?” Anthony asks, and although he tries to stay polite, he knows that he doesn't manage to hide his annoyance completely.

“Oh, please,” the prince says, rolling his eyes. “Don’t make me spell it out. You know exactly what I mean.”

Anthony lets out a breath. Fine, then. “Well, then whatever _proposition_ you have in mind, forget about it. Now please leave.”

Loki stares at him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Prince Loki. Please leave.”

“I think you misunderstood,” Loki says, his tone cool. “I am not here to -”

“Oh, I know exactly why you’re here,” Anthony interrupts him. “Do you know how many people have come here before, after they’ve seen me kneeling for somebody? I sent every single one away and I’m sending you away now, too, because I don't intend to become anyone's toy, not even yours. Now for the last time -”

“I think,” Loki says again, and his voice is louder now, loud enough to make Anthony stop talking, “you misunderstood.”

“Yes,” Anthony says, “you're repeating yourself. Now leave or I -”

“I think you are in no position to threaten _me._ ” 

The prince sounds icy in a way Anthony has heard before; it’s the tone of voice Loki uses for people who insulted him so severely that he can’t just laugh it off and prank them later. His green eyes are cold, too, and for a moment Anthony is certain that he will be challenged to a duel he won’t survive. But then the prince clenches his teeth and looks away, his posture even more rigid than before.

“You weren't kneeling when I saw you last week,” he says, stiffly. 

Anthony’s head goes blank. “What?”

“I am not here to -” Loki cuts himself off, closing his eyes for a brief moment before he looks at Anthony again. “I did not come here to blackmail you in any way whatsoever.”

“Wait,” Anthony says, feeling like he missed a few very important steps in a thought process. “You came here to -”

Loki ignores him, continuing as if he didn’t hear Anthony at all. “I understand that my - _advances_ are unwanted, and of course I will not bother you any further. As far as I’m concerned, this conversation never happened. My apologies for the disturbance.”

With that, he turns around and wants to leave, but Anthony, who finally starts to understand what’s going on, takes a few quick steps forward and manages to grab the prince’s arm. At once, Loki turns around, and in his free hand Tony sees something that immediately makes him step back again, his hands in the air.

“I don’t think I gave you permission to touch me,” Loki says curtly, his mouth a thin line. He looks like a cornered animal, and all at once, Anthony feels _spectacularly_ bad.

“I’m sorry,” he hurries to say. “I just - wait a second, alright? I jumped to conclusions there -”

“Oh, did you?” Loki’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Yes, I know, as I said, I’m _sorry._ I really am, but I -”

“If you even _think_ about using this information against me, I am going to ruin you.”

“Yes, I don’t - I don’t doubt that.” Anthony grins crookedly, glancing at the dagger in Loki’s hand. “Would you - uh, why don’t you put that away, and we can - try this again.”

Loki doesn’t put the dagger back to wherever he plucked it from, but he slowly lets it sink, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Try what again?”

Anthony makes a vague hand gesture. “This whole conversation. Because I’m - and I don’t say this often - extremely confused right now and I’d like to understand what you want from me, exactly, so maybe we could pretend you just came in?”

Loki stays still and quiet for a long moment, but then he slowly nods. The dagger disappears, although it’s clear now that he can summon it back into his hand within the split of a second. He straightens his back and while he doesn’t look any less wary, at least he seems less inclined to slit Anthony’s throat.

The silence turns awkward very quickly, and soon Anthony forces himself to break it. “Alright, er - do you mind if I lock the door? I don’t want anyone to interrupt or listen in -”

“I cast a spell before I entered,” Loki says, sounding almost bored now. “Nobody will approach the door.”

“Oh,” Anthony says. “That’ll be great for my business, I’m sure.”

Loki dismisses that with a wave of his hand. “I will lift it when I leave.”

“Okay. Great. We can talk upstairs, that’s a little more comfortable.”

“We can talk here,” Loki says. Apparently he doesn’t think that they will have a very long conversation.

Anthony sighs. “Fine. Do you want a drink, though?”

“No,” the prince says, watching him closely. “Thank you.”

Wonderful. This isn’t weird at all. 

Anthony looks at Loki, still trying to wrap his might around the reason why the prince is here. “I’ve never seen you in the Nine.”

Loki scoffs. “Of course you haven’t.”

“Magic?” Anthony guesses, thinking about the spell Loki mentioned. God, what Anthony would do to figure out how that _works._

“No,” Loki says, dismissive again. “Not quite.”

 _Oh._ Anthony blinks, surprised. He’s heard the rumors, of course - other warriors spread them, probably a few members of the Einherjar, although talking badly about the royal family could get them beheaded. They say that Loki isn’t only a mage, which would already be bad enough in the Aesir’s eyes, but also a _shapeshifter._ It’s a fascinating ability, but many think that it’s also the peak of deceit and therefore dishonorable, which - yes, ridiculous.

Forget about the spells, Anthony wants to know how _that_ works. Or wait, don’t forget about them. He wants to know how both works.

He grins broadly. “Shit, that’s _brilliant._ I wish I could do that, too, that would save me lots and lots of trouble.”

Loki’s blank expression crumbles, and for a few seconds he looks stunned. “I’m sorry?”

Anthony shrugs and unceremoniously clears some swords from a table so that he can sit down on it, hoping that will make this feel a little less… stiff. “I wasn’t lying when I said that I’ve had people coming in here and demanding that I follow them into bed right away. The blackmail is annoying.”

Loki frowns slightly. “Again, I do not wish to blackmail you. If you -”

“Yes, no, I know,” Anthony says quickly. “I mean, I believe you. I just want you to know why I reacted so badly, it’s not - it had nothing to do with you, personally.”

“Yes, I understand.” Loki clears his throat, averts his eyes. “I assume it’s clear that you will not speak to a single soul about this.”

Anthony nods. “Crystal clear.”

“Lovely.” Loki is hesitating again. “Well. I… I have to admit that I’m not sure how to…”

“That’s fine,” Anthony says. Carefully, he adds, “So, just to make sure that I got this right - _you_ want to submit to _me.”_

Loki blushes. He actually _blushes,_ so hard that even the tips of his ears turn red. His lips twitch and he looks away, seeming annoyed by his own - well, whatever it is, exactly. Embarrassment, probably. Maybe excitement, too. 

"You sound surprised," he says, and his tone is getting sharper. He's starting to feel cornered again.

Anthony lets out a brief laugh. "Well, yes, I _am._ It's not every day that a prince comes to me and -"

“I’m well aware that it’s not very becoming for someone of my status,” Loki snaps, green eyes glinting. "There is no reason to remind me."

Unimpressed by Loki's tone, Anthony raises a brow. “It’d be more becoming for someone of my status, you mean?”

Immediately, Loki's anger fades and he furrows his brow. “No, that is not what I -”

“That’s exactly what you meant," Anthony says, “and it's bullshit.”

Loki glares at him. It’s an impressive glare, but Anthony doesn’t let himself be bothered by it, which only seems to annoy Loki more. “You’re quite rude,” he says.

“You’re quite arrogant,” Anthony counters.

“Oh, please,” Loki says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen you, Howardson, and I have heard you talk often enough. _You_ have no right to accuse anyone of being arrogant.”

Anthony has to laugh, more surprised than anything else. “Yes, true. Fine. Still, this sort of thing has nothing to do with status, and it’s not _unbecoming_ for either of us.”

“Most inhabitants of Asgard would whole-heartedly disagree.”

“Most inhabitants of Asgard are narrow-minded idiots.”

Another glare. “You are aware that we could both be killed for this, yes? All _games_ aside, the fact that we are both men is bad enough.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Anthony says. “And I know it’s a surprise, but I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“Oh, I know.” Loki looks at him, his annoyance slowly disappearing. “I was quite surprised when I saw you there the first time, and surprising me is not easy.”

“When was that?”

“Pardon?”

“When did you see me there for the first time?”

Loki’s blush returns and he looks away again, pretending to be interested in one of the bows that are hanging on the wall. “Three years ago.”

Anthony stares at him. “Three years?”

“I do think you heard me.”

 _Three years._ Not much time on Asgard, all in all, but three years are still three years, and the thought that Loki has been thinking about this for so long is - a bit overwhelming. Anthony feels like he’s been overrun by a bilgesnipe. 

“But why me?” he asks, sounding as lost as he feels. “There are higher ranked people who -”

Loki firmly shakes his head. “They don’t interest me.”

“And _I_ do?”

“Yes,” Loki says. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Anthony echoes. “Right.”

He’s not dreaming, is he?

The pause apparently lasts too long, because Loki gets impatient. “Well? If you want to decline, please do so soon. I don’t have all day.”

“Right,” Anthony says again, dryly. No matter how this will end, he knows already that _if_ they agree to have some fun together, getting Loki under control will be a challenge. “Look, I - this isn’t exactly how I do this sort of thing, usually, but -”

Loki’s face goes blank. “I see. Then I will be on my -”

“ - but that doesn’t mean I'm saying _no.”_

Loki stills. “Oh.”

Yes. Oh.

x

Ten minutes after the prince left, Anthony comes to the conclusion that he has definitely been dreaming. It wouldn’t be unusual, dreaming of Loki. The rest of the day passes in a blur; Anthony doesn’t open his shop again, but he distracts himself with his many projects. It doesn’t work as well as it usually does.

His thoughts keep straying back to the memory of Loki, standing in the middle of the room with his back straight and his chin high, acting as if he _wasn’t_ nervous. His blush betrayed him. _Loki._

Gods, saying that Anthony isn’t intrigued would be a lie.

Prince Loki isn't like most other Aesir, and most of all he isn't like his brother. He prefers the library over the fighting grounds and flyting over sparring. He is reserved, intelligent, well-mannered, and charming, although his charm is usually seen as deception by the other Aesir. Anthony isn't sure why; he doesn't know much of magic, but as far as he is concerned, it's just the tool Loki prefers because he is good at it. The Aesir would never judge a warrior for choosing a spear over a sword because of similar reasons, but _magic_ seems to be unacceptable. Fine, maybe Loki's love for mischief plays into it as well, but that's really just another point on the list of things Anthony finds interesting about the younger prince. That list is positively endless.

They agreed to meet again, in the evening, so that they can talk about the _details_ in peace. Anthony invited Loki to his home for dinner, which is surreal enough as it is, but the fact that Loki actually _said yes_ should be proof enough that Anthony really is dreaming, or perhaps hallucinating. Why should Loki be interested in _him_ of all people? Sure, he is not as well-liked as his brother and, dark and lean as he is, he might not be what most Aesir consider attractive, but he is still a prince, which makes him a good catch by default. He could have _everyone_. Why would he choose Anthony?

Oh, he isn't insecure or anything, no. He knows that he's attractive, but he doesn't believe that alone can be the reason Loki came to _him._ There would be other, safer options, also considering that the prince can change his form. Not understanding Loki's reasoning makes Anthony nervous, and that only gets worse when he comes home from the market.

He quickly realized that having dinner with someone requires _food,_ and not the sort of squeezed-in-between-work meals Anthony usually resorts to. It also requires _cooking,_ which Anthony isn't very good at. And it requires a clean and tidy house, which Anthony does not have at the moment, simply because he spends all of his time in the smithy and not here.

Note for the next time: inviting someone, especially the prince he's been pining after for years, should also involve at least a bit of thinking.

He tidies up the house in record time, and then he hurries to the small kitchen downstairs to brood over the things he bought on the market and figure out what exactly he can cook with them. He's on the brink of running to Ana and Jarvis next door and asking them for help, but then they would ask _who_ he is cooking for, and Anthony can hardly tell them that he is cooking for _Loki,_ because then the flood of questions would never stop.

In the end, he decides to roast the meat, cook everything else and then hope that it will be edible. He doesn't have a lot of time before Loki will arrive, so he lets everything cook or simmer or whatever and runs upstairs to his bedroom, where he proceeds to stare at the contents of his closet for longer than anticipated.

He can hardly wear what he wears at work; the boots, leather pants and heavy aprons are functional, not pretty. Thankfully he also has some finer clothes he wears at feasts and such, although he hasn't attended one in ages. When his father was still alive, they went to parties all the time - even to the palace, sometimes -, and Anthony still does so often enough to nurse his connections, but by far not often enough by his father's standards.

He pulls out his better tunics and immediately grimaces because not a single one is green. He'd choose red, normally, but he knows that colors have great significance in the royal family, and the last thing he wants is to insult Loki by wearing his brother's color. Eventually, he chooses a tunic that has the tone of dark honey; he remembers that it was his mother's favorite, so it can't be too bad.

He takes a quick bath and then gets dressed, feeling a little uncomfortable in the tight leather pants and long-sleeved shirt. He's still lacing his pretty boots while he makes his way down the stairs, so it's a wonder that he doesn't fall and break his neck. He reaches the kitchen just in time to save the dinner from burning.

It takes a while until he finds the best tableware he owns - it belonged to his mother -, but eventually he sets the table in the dining room, not in the kitchen where he usually eats when he is here. He fetches a bottle of wine and is about to put it on the table when -

“You clean up nicely.”

Anthony flinches so hard that he drops the bottle, and then he has to take a very quick step back because suddenly Loki appears right in front of him, out of thin air. He caught the bottle just in the last second before it hit the ground.

“I didn't think you would be this easily startled,” he says, smirking. “Forgive me.”

Anthony lets out a breath. “Teleportation.”

“Naturally.”

“You could have used the front door.”

“It's safer this way.”

“I guess knocking is for other people?” Anthony asks, teasing, and wants to take the bottle back, but Loki quickly gets it out of his reach, examining the label.

“This is elvish.”

Anthony watches him, amused by Loki's confusion. He holds out his hand. “I prefer it over mead or beer.”

Loki's smirk turns into a pleasantly surprised smile. “Me as well.”

Anthony raises a brow and wiggles his fingers, and after a moment Loki hands him the bottle. 

“Thank you,” Anthony says dryly and turns back to the table. He opens the bottle. “Come, sit down.”

Loki doesn't move. Anthony looks over his shoulder at the prince, and for the first time he realizes that Loki actually _came._ Which means that Anthony did neither dream nor hallucinate, it means that Loki actually - wants him. Or wants something from him, at least. 

He was about to fill the two glasses, but now he pauses in the middle of the movement, still looking at Loki. The prince's eyes are fixed on him, too, flickering back and forth between Anthony's face and his hands. He isn't in the same clothes he was wearing when he came to the smithy, this looks like something he could also wear to a feast in the palace. The thought that Loki wanted to look good for him makes Anthony feel warm, and the fact that he _succeeded_ makes it hard to concentrate. Now that Loki is actually here and apparently - _obviously -_ interested as well, Anthony's thoughts would like to run directly into the direction of all the fantasies he collected during the last years.

But first, dinner. Or dinners, possibly. Hopefully. He's been waiting for a chance to actually get to know Loki for _years._

Now he just has to do this right.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, careful. Loki still hasn't moved.

Loki doesn't reply at first, hesitating again. Finally he asks, “Do you always invite your _partners_ to dinner?"

Anthony smiles and finally pours wine into each glass. “No. My _partners_ usually don't show up in my smithy because they're too shy to talk to me in the Nine, though.”

"I was not _too shy,”_ Loki argues at once, offended.

 _Three years,_ Anthony thinks, unable to suppress his grin. “Sure you weren't. Now come here and sit down, you're making me nervous.”

Loki gives him an annoyed look, but he does sit down, albeit a little gingerly. “How does this go, then?”

“That depends,” Anthony says, shrugging.

“On what?”

“On how you want it to go.” Anthony sits down as well and takes his glass.

Loki doesn't seem to know how to reply to that. He frowns and looks down at his - at the moment still empty - plate. Gods, it's so clear that he isn't _comfortable,_ and seeing his tense shoulders and clenched jaws makes Anthony want to hug him. 

“You must have some ideas,” he says, keeping his voice soft. “How did you imagine it would go?”

“I didn't have anything specific in mind,” Loki says, but his face is starting to flush again, which leads Anthony to believe that Loki is lying and just, yes, _too shy_ to share his thoughts.

“That's fine,” Anthony says. “What about things you like and don't like, then?”

Loki refuses to look at him. “I'm afraid there is not much I can offer you.”

Anthony puts his glass down and leans forward. “Loki, this isn't a business transaction. There's no pressure. It's supposed to be _fun.”_

Loki makes a face, displeased. “It should be Prince Loki, I think.”

“We're planning to start sleeping with each other,” Anthony deadpans.

“Ah,” Loki says. “Yes, I suppose that is a good point.”

“Yes,” Anthony agrees, smirking. “You haven't changed your mind, then?”

“Why would I have changed my mind?”

“Because you don't seem like you actually want to be here,” Anthony says, arching a brow.

The prince swallows visibly and averts his eyes. It's silent for a while, and Anthony has no idea what is going on in Loki's head. He half expects him to stand up and leave, but thankfully Loki stays right where he is. The tension doesn't bleed out of his shoulders, but he does deflate a little, his frown disappears.

“I don't mean to be rude,” he says finally. “This is a little more… stressful than I expected.”

Suddenly, Anthony understands. He stares at Loki and, yes, he still wants to give him a hug. Loki looks like he is in desperate need of one.

“What do you do when you're in the Nine?” Anthony asks, and Loki looks up again, meeting his eyes.

“I watch,” he says.

Yes, so Anthony thought. He's surprised, but in a way it makes sense - it certainly explains all the blushing. “You haven't done this before.”

“I assume that's obvious,” Loki says, lips twitching into a smirk that is a little too bitter for Anthony's taste.

He understands, though, or at least he thinks he does. People who find joy in submitting aren't well-regarded in Asgard, and Loki's reputation is bad enough as it is; this would just about ruin it. It has to be one of Loki's most well-kept secrets, and of course he has to be very careful. It's no wonder that it took him three years to gather up enough courage to approach Anthony, but then again… why not shapeshift? That would solve all of Loki's problems.

“Can I ask you something?” Anthony says, carefully.

“If you must.”

“Why me?”

The question doesn't seem to surprise Loki, but he doesn't seem willing to answer it, either. “I already told you, the others do not interest me.”

“That can't be all of it,” Anthony says, because it can't be.

“Why not?” For the first time, Loki takes a sip of wine. When Anthony keeps looking at him expectantly, Loki sighs and adds, “You are handsome, charming and intelligent. You don't care much of what anyone thinks of you, and you also aren't involved in the politics at court. I have seen you in the Nine and I -”

He stops abruptly and raises his glass to his lips again.

Anthony can't keep from smirking. “You liked what you saw.”

Loki glances at him. His face stays mostly blank, but there's something in his eyes that Anthony likes - defiance, as if he expects to be judged for liking it and decided to like it, anyway.

“Yes,” he says, and Anthony grins at him.

“I like what I see, too.”

Loki stares at him, obviously surprised. “You do?”

“Yes,” Anthony says and nods, laughing. “If I had seen you in the Nine, I'd have tried to talk to you _at once.”_

It seems like Loki expected pretty much everything except that, because he doesn't look surprised anymore, he looks _dumbstruck._

And curious.

“Only talk?” he asks, and the surprise in his eyes turns into mischief.

“No,” Anthony says, still grinning. “A bit more than that.”

Slowly, Loki starts to smile, and Anthony thinks that inviting the prince to dinner might just have been the best idea of his life.

He definitely needs to work on his cooking skills, though.

  
  


x

The bottle of wine is empty when Loki leaves. It's late, late enough that Anthony will regret it in a few hours when he has to get up and return to his smithy, but at the same time it feels like isn't late enough. Like Loki could stay the entire night and it still wouldn't be enough.

Even though Loki will teleport back to the palace, Anthony walks him to the door. Loki seems much more at ease now; his shoulders are less tense and his smile is less sarcastic. Anthony isn't sure if it's because of the wine or because of his suggestion that they can just have dinner and talk, not necessarily about anything involving the Nine or what they could do _instead_ of talking.

Before tonight, Anthony has never actually _spoken_ to Loki. They attended the same gatherings a few times, but they have never really exchanged a word before. Anthony's weapons might be popular, but in the end he's still just a smith, and smiths don't usually spend time with one of the princes. But well, if Loki is bothered by that somehow, he doesn't show it. Actually, he doesn't mention their statuses at all; maybe he remembers that Anthony wasn't pleased about the comment Loki made earlier in the day. Loki doesn't seem offended by the simplicity of Anthony's house, either, which Anthony kind of expected (and feared). He's by no means poor, but his house is nothing compared to the one he grew up in, and even _less_ than nothing compared to the palace Loki still lives in. But no, Loki even says that the house is _cozy,_ and he doesn't complain about the bad quality of the food or the fact that there are no servants. Anthony would think that Loki is lying and pretending to be polite, because that's certainly something the prince is capable of, but for that he looks too relaxed.

They spent the whole evening talking - not about the Nine, but about Anthony's work and Loki's duties, and then more and more about Loki's magic. Anthony needed about two and a half seconds to figure out that Loki doesn't get to talk about his skills enough, which is no surprise but makes Anthony angry nonetheless. It took a while until Loki realized that Anthony really is curious, but then it was difficult to _stop_ him from talking about his pocket dimensions.

Not that Anthony wanted to stop him. He still hasn't had enough of listening to Loki.

When they come to stand in front of the door, Loki looks at Anthony - well, down at him; he really is quite tall. And he smiles, which makes Anthony hold his breath.

“Thank you,” Loki says, politely. “This was… considerably less stressful than I feared in the beginning.”

Anthony has to laugh. “That's good, I guess. I had a nice time, too. We should - do this again soon.”

Loki's smile becomes wider, almost giddy. “Yes, we should.”

“We can keep meeting here,” Anthony offers. “If you’re not comfortable in the Nine?”

“I’m not uncomfortable in the Nine, it’s merely -” Loki looks at Anthony for a moment, then says, “Shielding us from Heimdal’s view is much easier when we are alone somewhere, not in a building filled to the brim with… lecherous people.”

Anthony already wants to tease Loki for his prim tone, but then he realizes what Loki just said. “Wait, shielding us from Heimdal? You can _do_ that?”

Loki gives him a dry look. “Of course. I wouldn’t be able to plan and prepare my pranks otherwise.”

“Gods, you’re _brilliant._ You have to tell me how you do that. Is it like a shield? Or -”

“If I start explaining this now, I’ll have to stay here the whole night,” Loki warns.

“I wouldn’t have anything against that,” Anthony says, his tone just _lecherous_ enough to make Loki blush again. Anthony quite likes making him blush.

The look in Loki’s eyes is knowing, but he still doesn’t seem uncomfortable. “Maybe next time, then,” he says. “I’ll be free next week, so -”

“Same place, same time?” Anthony nods. “Yes, that works.”

“Lovely. Well, then.” Loki clears his throat and gives Anthony another smile. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Anthony replies, and then Loki is already gone.

Teleportation really _is_ convenient.

x

Loki is nervous tonight. It’s not quite the same sort of nervousness he displayed when he entered Anthony’s smithy, that was just Loki preparing himself for a rejection. This looks much more like restlessness, and Loki hides it well, but after the four nights they spent together - talking, eating dinner and drinking wine, nothing else -, Anthony knows Loki well enough to pick up the clues, one by one. There’s the way Loki can’t seem to be able to keep his hands from fidgeting, and the fact that his face is simply _too_ blank most of the time. He’s quiet, too; no matter what Anthony tries, he can’t really get Loki to talk. That’s a shame, because like this it’s bound to get awkward again, and Anthony kind of hoped they were done with that. It turned out that talking to Loki is surprisingly… easy. They need to warm up a little every time they see each other, but usually they forget all awkwardness pretty quickly. But tonight it doesn’t work like that, and Anthony doesn’t like it.

They make it through dinner in silence. Anthony’s cooking skills haven’t improved a bit, but Loki doesn’t seem to be very hungry, anyway. When Anthony comes back into the dining room after bringing their plates back to the kitchen, Loki is still sitting at the table, holding his wine glass. Anthony takes the bottle to offer Loki a refill, but the prince shakes his head, so Anthony puts the bottle down again.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he says, making sure that it doesn’t sound like an accusation.

Loki glances at him. “Oh?”

Anthony raises a brow, hoping that Loki doesn't think he's an idiot and didn't notice that something is wrong. "Did you have a fight with the Allfather or something?"

For the first time tonight, Loki looks at him properly. And sharply. “Why would you think that?”

Again, does Loki think Anthony is an idiot?

“Well,” Anthony says and sits down again, “it's obvious that you two don't get along all too well.”

“As opposed to the Allfather and Thor, you mean.”

“Yes,” Anthony says, unimpressed by Loki's cold voice. “Sorry if I'm being nosy.”

Loki glares at him for a moment longer, but then he sighs and shakes his head. “No, don't apologize. I'm afraid I'm simply no good company tonight.”

“You're always good company,” Anthony objects. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Loki shakes his head at once. “It's nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

Anthony disagrees - they're friends by now, right? Sort of. And fine, maybe they still don't really know each other, but still. Loki is _important,_ so everything that bothers him is, or at least should be, a concern of Anthony, too. But, fine. Anthony won't make him talk if he doesn't want to.

“You don't have to stay if you'd rather be alone,” Anthony says, gently.

“Obviously,” Loki replies. “I can go if I'm bothering you.”

Anthony suppresses a sigh; it's a bit worrying how quickly Loki can feel insulted. Or well, insulted is not really the right word; it's more a matter of how quickly he can be made to feel that he needs to close off, repel, defend himself. It's frustrating, but Anthony tries not to be annoyed.

“You're not bothering me,” he says. “Promise.”

“If you say so.”

“Chess?” Anthony asks.

“Excuse me?”

“We could play chess. It's the only game I have, and losing against me will be an awesome distraction.”

Loki glares at him, offended. “I'll have you know that nobody has managed to beat me at chess.”

“Yet,” Tony adds and stands up, taking their glasses. “Let's relocate to the sofa. No talking necessary if you don't feel like it.”

Loki follows him into the sitting room and sits down on the sofa in silence, because apparently he really doesn't feel like talking. Anthony fetches the chess board and sits down in the armchair across from Loki, and then he loses at chess, though it's a very close draw.

Winning the challenge improves Loki's mood at once, so it's absolutely worth it.

“I have a question,” Anthony announces, watching as Loki starts to rearrange the chess pieces.

“I thought there would be no talking,” Loki says.

“Only if you still don’t feel like it.”

Loki gives him a look - not annoyed, just amused. “Well, far be it from me to keep you from satisfying your curiosity.”

“When did you start coming to the Nine?”

Loki's hands still. They haven't talked about the Nine at all since that first dinner, because Loki didn't broach the topic and Anthony decided to wait until… he doesn't know, really. For the right moment, maybe? Thing is, he's a bit tired of waiting, because spending more time with Loki makes _waiting_ really difficult and he still needs to know what Loki _wants,_ and also he thinks that maybe there's a better way to distract him than chess.

When Loki finally speaks, he sounds tense, and he doesn't look at Anthony. “Three years ago.”

“Oh,” Anthony says. “But -”

“I saw you the very first time,” Loki explains, gathering up his pawns and setting them down on his side of the board.

“And since then you -”

“Yes,” Loki interrupts him again. “Since then.”

Anthony swallows, thickly. For a moment, he doesn't know what to say; he doesn't know what he _did_ to make Loki want him, but he's ready to send dozens of thankful prayers - and he doesn't pray, usually - to the Norns for sending Loki to the Nine in that night Anthony was there as well, three years ago. _Three years ago._

“And you're still interested?” he asks.

Loki is still busy with his pawns. His voice is quiet. “I didn't think you would ask.”

“What, because I haven't tied you to my bed yet?”

Loki stays silent, and Anthony has to smile. He knew that Loki has been waiting, just like Anthony himself has been waiting.

“I told you,” he says, “it's supposed to be fun, and it's not fun if you're uncomfortable. And anyway, I'm asking now.”

The prince returns his smile, but only briefly, and he doesn't manage to hold Anthony's gaze for very long. “Yes, I am still interested.”

“Is there any boring stuff you have to attend tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Loki replies, a little wary. “A meeting in the afternoon.”

“So you can stay the night?”

Loki lifts his head and stares at him, the few chess pieces that are still not in their right place at either end of the board forgotten. Anthony raises a brow, and now he can see Loki swallow, his Adam's apple moving with it. Then, finally, Loki nods.

Damn. At once, Anthony's thoughts run wild, giddily imagining all the things he could _do_ to Loki. He has to remind himself to go slow, to not forget that this is so very _new_ to Loki and, in a way, new to Anthony himself as well. He's never done this sort of thing with anyone he actually - _likes._ Likes far too much, really, and even more since he knows what Loki looks like when he eats something he hates and tries to pretend that he enjoys it, what a face he makes when he's tipsy and trying to keep himself from giggling, how he smiles when he is truly enjoying a conversation.

Anthony likes to think that nobody else gets to see the younger prince like that, but that's just him being hopelessly smitten and also a touch more possessive than he should be. 

Because actually it's a sad thought, that Loki might never have felt comfortable enough in anyone's presence to actually enjoy himself.

“Tell me what you saw,” Anthony says - orders, really, but gently. Somebody being harsh to him is probably the last thing Loki needs. “That first time.”

Loki’s brows twitch into a frown. “Why?”

Yeah, of course that’s what happens when you give Loki _any_ sort of order. It makes Anthony grin. “I’m curious.”

“Fine,” Loki says, pretending to be perfectly calm. Anthony can tell that he’s pretending by the way Loki hesitates before actually answering the question. “I didn’t want to stay for very long, I simply… wanted to get a quick look.”

Anthony snorts. “That’s how it started for me, too.”

“Yes, well. I just wanted to leave, then... “ He clears his throat. “I saw you come in. I’d seen you before, elsewhere, so I was surprised, to say the least.”

“And you stayed to watch?”

“Obviously.”

Anthony tries to remember what he did three years ago in the Nine that was so special that it piqued Loki’s interest, but since he doesn’t know when Loki was there, exactly, Anthony has no idea. He’d like to clap himself on the shoulder, anyway, though. 

“What did I do?” he asks, watching Loki attentively. He’s kind of hoping that this will make Loki blush again.

“You had dinner,” Loki says. “Some kind of casserole, I think. It didn’t look very good, but then again, food is not really what the Nine is infamous for.”

Anthony smiles and leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “You’re deflecting.”

Loki is very good at looking innocent. It’s probably how he got away with all his pranks when he was younger. “What makes you think that?”

“Just a guess,” Anthony says. “So, what did I do?”

His stubbornness earns him a glare, but after a moment Loki looks down at the board and gives in. “You fed a woman bits of your dinner. She was kneeling at your feet, and you… you were joking with her.” Ah, and there it is; Loki’s starting to blush. “I wasn’t close enough to listen. You led her upstairs when you were done eating.”

Oh, Anthony _thinks_ he remembers that, or at least he remembers the woman. He met her a few times, and she liked having dinner first. He hasn’t talked to her in ages. 

He still doesn’t get what caught Loki’s attention, though, so he asks, “What did you like about that?”

“I’m not sure,” Loki says. He’s fiddling around with a knight. 

“The feeding?” 

Loki makes a face. “No. I would prefer not to be treated like a dog, thank you very much.”

 _Good to know_. “What about the kneeling?”

Loki swallows. “Yes.”

“Alright, “ Anthony says, smiling. “What else?”

“Well,” Loki begins, slowly. He seems to have trouble finding the right words. “You were kind to her, but then you took her upstairs and…” The blush intensifies, and he seems annoyed. “Well, the walls in the Nine are very thin.”

Anthony can’t help it, he has to laugh. Loki’s expression darkens, and immediately Anthony shakes his head. “No, sorry, I’m not - laughing _at_ you, it’s just - you’re right. The walls really are thin. I’ve always thought that’s awful for an establishment like that.”

“Yes,” Loki says, judging by his tone he’s still a bit miffed. “Quite.”

“Did you follow us upstairs to watch?”

 _“No,”_ Loki says at once. “Of course not.”

“You could have. She always asked me to leave the door open.”

“Oh,” Loki says, and there’s something about his tone that makes Anthony perk up.

“If that’s something you would like,” he says with a raised brow, “we should meet in the Nine.”

Loki quickly shakes his head. “No.”

“No, you wouldn’t like it or no, you don’t want to meet in the Nine?”

“I’d be grateful if we changed the topic,” Loki says.

 _Damn._ Sensitive topic, apparently. Anthony doesn’t comment. “What about the last time you saw me?”

“What about it?”

“What did I do? What did you like?”

“Oh, please. Surely you remember -”

“Surely you can answer my question without acting up,” Anthony counters and for the first time, his voice is a little firmer, because apparently Loki likes to disregard orders if they don't sound like one.

Loki notices the difference at once, his eyes narrowing. Anthony holds his gaze and waits. He can be patient when he has to be, and he can tell that patience will be very important when he wants to keep spending time with Loki.

"You spent the evening with a man," Loki says finally, forming the words slowly and carefully. "I had seen you with men before, so that wasn't a surprise."

Anthony nods, encouraging him to continue.

“You were talking to him." Loki pauses and shifts in his seat, and he doesn't quite meet Anthony's eyes. “I might have accidentally listened in.”

"Accidentally," Anthony repeats, smiling.

"Yes," Loki says, acting innocent again. “You promised him… all kinds of things, until he practically begged you to… take him with you.”

“Not practically,” Anthony corrects, smile turning into a grin. “He did beg.”

Loki gives him a look that’s only almost a glare. “Yes.”

“And did you like what you heard?”

“Well, I -” He struggles to find the right words, which is, given that this is _Loki,_ a rather surprising sight. Finally he settles on, “I appreciate it when someone knows how to use their words.”

Anthony probably shouldn't find that at all surprising, given that everyone in Asgard knows how much the younger prince loves words, and everything to do with them. But still, knowing that Loki might actually _like_ hearing Anthony talk is damn brilliant, because usually people only like telling Anthony to shut up. And not only in bed.

"Me too," he says, and that earns him the brief flicker of a smile. "And since then, have you thought about me?"

"I think that should be obvious," Loki says.

"Tell me what you've been thinking about, exactly."

Loki doesn't seem pleased that Anthony wants to know the details, or maybe he’s just being shy. That’s hard to tell sometimes. Finally, he says, “Your hands.”

Anthony blinks and glances down at his hands - they’re strong, but the skin is rough and calloused from his work. “My hands?”

Loki looks at them, too, and his cheeks have turned another one or two shades darker when he yanks his eyes away again. “Yes.”

Alright, so Loki obviously has a thing for Anthony’s hands, that’s - yes. Fine. Absolutely fine. He spontaneously comes up with _at least_ a dozen things his hand could and desperately want to do to Loki right this second, but - patience. Yes. Patience is important.

“And what do you want my hands to do to you?” he asks, keeping his voice low and calm while hoping that Loki will reply with one of those dozen things Anthony is imagining. 

“You promised him pain,” Loki says, slowly.

“Him?” Anthony echoes. “Oh, you mean - we’re not talking about him now, though.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Loki replies, _almost_ snaps.

Anthony makes a mental note to start working on getting Loki to say what he wants, directly and without being shy about it. That’ll be a long progress, probably, but Anthony is definitely up for it. For now, though - _pain._

Maybe Anthony was mistaken when he thought that somebody being harsh to Loki is the last thing he needs.

“Do you want me to hurt you?” he asks, careful and unassuming.

Loki glares at him as if he suggested that Loki should go and try to kiss a bilgesnipe. “I’m not sure,” he says, and his sharp tone doesn’t quite fit to the uncertainty of his words.

“There are no wrong answers when it comes to this, you know,” Anthony tells him. “If you like being hurt, that’s fine. I like it too, sometimes.”

Loki’s expression smoothes out a little. “Truly?”

“Yeah. Most of the time I prefer hurting other people, though. People who enjoy it.” He pauses, then smiles. “I’d enjoy hurting you, if that’s what you want.”

Judging by the way he’s blushing and looking at Anthony, it is pretty much _exactly_ what Loki wants, but he still has some difficulties voicing it. He does nod, though, which is a good start.

Warmth and excitement are pooling in Anthony’s belly, but he ignores that for now. “Do you want to try something, then?”

Loki looks a little shocked. “Now?”

“Only if you want to.”

The prince stares at him, and suddenly he’s turning pale instead of red. Anthony doesn’t want him to panic, so he smiles at him and raises his hands.

“You have my explicit permission to stab me if I do something you don’t like.”

That distracts Loki from panicking. “I am not going to _stab_ you, Anthony.”

“Good. Instead you can tell me to stop at any given time, and I will. If you just want to take a break, or for me to go more slowly, you can tell me, too. Okay?”

Loki thinks about it for a moment, then he nods very carefully. 

“Alright.” Anthony holds out his hands invitingly. “Come here, then. On your knees.”

“On my knees?” Loki repeats, because naturally he’s offended. 

“I thought you liked the idea of that.”

“Nobody except the Allfather has ever ordered me to kneel for them.”

“Do you not want me to give you orders?”

Loki’s face goes blank for a second and he needs a little too long to answer. “Even if I do, it does not change that I _am_ a prince.”

“Well then, _my Prince_ , I just told you to kneel, and if you want this, you might like to start doing as I say.”

Loki swallows visibly. His annoyance seems to fade. A long moment passes, then he slowly stands up and walks around the table until he stands right in front of Anthony. Anthony raises a brow, expectant, and after giving him another mild glare, Loki finally sinks down to his knees. 

“Well then,” he says, plucking an imaginary lint from his pants. “I do hope this is to your satisfaction, because -”

He stops abruptly when Anthony reaches out and takes Loki’s chin between his thumb and index finger, making him look at him. Loki seems to have forgotten what he wanted to say, and Anthony finds that he likes having that effect on his prince.

“It _is_ to my satisfaction,” Anthony says, his voice low. “You look good on your knees.”

Loki looks at him; he isn’t even breathing. “I - I’m glad to hear it.”

Anthony suppresses a laugh, but he doesn’t manage to stifle a grin. He’d like to tell Loki that he is _damn adorable,_ but he doesn’t think that Loki would appreciate that. “Now,” Anthony says instead, “I want you to keep looking at me, and I want you to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”

Loki nods. Anthony notes that the prince’s pupils are dilated, and that his cheeks are turning pink again. Gods, he _does_ look beautiful on his knees. Anthony wants to keep him like this for hours.

“Look at that,” he says, softly. “You _can_ do as you’re told. Very good.” He lets go of Loki’s chin and strokes his cheek; he’s been wanting to touch these cheekbones for _years._ “You’re gorgeous, you know. I’ve always thought so.”

Loki starts squirming, and for a second Anthony thinks that the compliments make him uncomfortable, but then he sees Loki’s dark eyes, his slightly partening lips as he lets out a breath. 

“You like that,” Anthony says, doesn’t even bother voicing it as a question. “Me telling you things like that.”

Loki nods again, and looks away.

 _Praise._ He has a thing for praise, too. It makes Anthony smile; he can definitely work with that.

“I told you to look at me,” he says, then waits until Loki gathers up enough courage to meet Anthony’s eyes again. “Good. Stay just like this.”

Loki doesn’t move, and he doesn’t look away again. Anthony’s fingers wander over his cheek and gently brush a strand of his hair behind his ear. It’s the first time he actually _touches_ Loki, touches his skin, and Anthony is a little surprised by how cool Loki’s skin is. It’s completely smooth, too, as if Loki freshly shaved before coming here - although, now that Anthony thinks about it, Loki is the only Aesir Anthony has never seen wearing a beard. Not that he minds. No, he definitely doesn’t mind; actually, he would like to tell Loki to strip and then touch every patch of cool, smooth skin.

But, one thing at a time.

Anthony makes sure that Loki’s hair is out of the way - god, Loki’s hair, Anthony really wants to pull at it. Maybe later. He can’t really get enough from touching Loki’s face, those damned cheekbones, the line of his jaw, his mouth. After stroking his thumb over Loki’s lower lip, Tony can’t help himself and pushes his finger in just a bit, just enough to feel the warmth of Loki’s mouth, the tip of his tongue behind his teeth. Not even that makes Loki move. His breaths are shallow by now, warm on Anthony’s thumb, and his eyes are dark; he seems to like the attention. 

“I could do this all night long,” Anthony says, a bit surprised by how rough his voice is. “Just touching you. But yeah, I’d prefer having you naked for that. Open your mouth.”

Loki pulls back a little so that he can ask, “What for?”

“For my fingers,” Anthony tells him dryly, “since you like them so much. Now open up and be quiet, please.”

Loki narrows his eyes a bit, but he does open his mouth. Anthony pushes his thumb in further, feeling the line of Loki’s lower teeth, his tongue. Loki stops breathing altogether, and although he acts unbothered, almost bored, Anthony can tell that he’s enjoying himself. The most telling sign is that Loki’s tongue starts to push back against Anthony’s finger and swirls around the tip, as if to taste it. It almost makes Anthony forget about his plans and open his pants instead, because he _definitely_ needs to find out how that tongue feels on his cock.

He has to withdraw his hand before the desire gets too hard to resist. Loki closes his mouth, and Anthony smiles at him. A glance downward tells him that he’s not the only one whose pants are getting tight.

“You’re doing so well,” Anthony says, cupping Loki’s cheek again. He trails his fingers down to Loki’s jaw, then to his neck. “Perfect, really. Do you still want me to hurt you?”

Anthony can feel the movement of Loki’s Adam’s apple under his fingertips as Loki swallows. After a moment, the prince nods, and again quite a few possibilities run through Anthony’s mind. He could have Loki over the table, his ass bare for Anthony’s hands; gods, he really does want to turn all that pale skin red, and possibly sore enough that Loki has trouble sitting. He could even fetch one of the paddles from his bedroom, or maybe a cane… the stripes would look lovely on Loki, no doubt, and it would sting very nicely. 

But his thoughts are running away from him; he has to remind himself to go slow. And Loki did say that he likes Anthony’s hands, so probably Anthony’s hands are what he wants. How to use them, though?

Again: he’s been wanting to touch _and hit_ those cheekbones for years.

“I’m going to hit you now,” he says, running his thumb over Loki’s cheekbone. “Shake your head if you don’t want me to.”

Loki doesn’t shake his head. He does take an unsteady breath, but apart from that he stays quiet. Anthony wants to kiss him, but instead he puts his left hand on Loki’s jaw to keep him still. He makes sure that it doesn’t take Loki by surprise, that he gets a few seconds to prepare himself, and then Anthony raises his hand and slaps Loki’s face. 

Loki flinches just slightly. His eyes are pinched shut for a moment, his lips parted. Anthony knows how to use his strength; he knows that while the slap hurt, it was nowhere near unbearable, nowhere near what Loki is used to. He’s had much, much worse on the sparring grounds.

This is different, though. Because on the sparring grounds, Loki doesn’t _ask_ to be hurt. And Anthony knows that that difference can be a lot to handle, and he can see in Loki’s eyes that it’s exactly that: a lot. 

“Breathe,” Anthony says, smiling at him. “It’s alright, you’re doing fine. Did you like that?”

Loki’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. He shifts a little on his knees. His eyes flicker away for a moment, unable to hold Anthony’s gaze, until he makes himself look at Anthony again. Slowly, he says, “I did.”

“Do you want another?”

Loki puts his hands on his thighs, grasping at his leather pants. He nods.

“Ask me, then.”

“I am not going to _ask_ you to hit me,” Loki says, at once. Offended again. His voice is uneven.

Anthony shrugs and lets his hands sink. “Alright. Do you want to play another round of chess? Because I want a rematch.”

Loki stares at him, dumbfounded. "I do not want to play _chess."_

"No? Then what do you want to do instead?" 

“You know exactly what I want.”

“Do I?”

The look in Loki’s eyes could make somebody drop dead on the spot, but Anthony doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. 

“Loki,” he says, “this will only work if we do this together, okay? I can take the lead, and I can promise you that I won’t judge you for anything you want from this, but you have to meet me halfway. And if you changed your mind, if this is not what you want -”

“It is what I want,” Loki cuts him off, sharply. “I do want to - I’ve never given up control before.”

“But that’s what you want? You want to give up control to me?”

“Well, that is why I came to you in the first place,” Loki says. “I did think you knew that.”

“Is sassing me your idea of ‘meeting me halfway’?”

“Is this your idea of appropriately treating your Prince?”

Gods. Anthony slides his hand into Loki’s hair and tugs his head back so that Loki has to look at him. It can’t really hurt, for that Anthony isn’t pulling hard enough, but still, Loki is either too surprised or too offended to stop him. Anthony guesses that, when he takes his hand away, he could either be sentenced to a slow death in prison due to offending one of Asgard’s princes, _or_ he might finally have Loki’s undivided attention instead of sharing it with the prince’s need to be contrary at all times.

“I treat my Prince like he wants to be treated,” Anthony says, then smiles. “Well, I’d like to. He hasn’t asked me yet.”

“I simply see no point in -” He stops when Anthony’s grip on his hand loosens and quickly grabs Anthony’s wrist, frowning. “No.”

“No?”

“Keep it there.” Loki rolls his eyes, then softens his demands by adding, “please.”

“See?” Anthony grins and buries his other hand in Loki’s hair. When Loki lets go of his wrist, Anthony taps the back of Loki’s hand. “Let’s start this again, yeah? Behind your back.”

Loki needs a moment to figure out what Anthony means, but then he shifts on his knees and puts his hands behind his back. He doesn’t look all too comfortable, but it will do; Anthony is reasonably sure that if Loki didn’t _enjoy_ kneeling, he would have stood up again after about thirty seconds. 

“Good,” Anthony praises, tugging slightly at Loki’s hair. It makes Loki’s breath hitch, which Anthony assumes is a good sign. “That’s not so hard, is it? Now ask me.”

Seconds pass. Finally, Loki seems to have gathered enough courage to obey. “I want,” he says slowly, “you to hit me. Again.”

Not quite what Anthony had in mind, but again: it will do. He hopes that Loki will have less trouble voicing what he wants when he gets more confident about this; he’s usually so good with words, after all. And while Anthony is good at reading people, he can’t actually read _minds,_ and the last thing he wants is to actually hurt Loki by accident simply because they failed to establish the limits Loki certainly has. Anthony makes a mental note to talk about that as soon as possible, but for now - _go slow._ Loki liked what Anthony had been doing right until Anthony wanted him to ask for more, so Anthony won’t do much more tonight, at least not regarding pain. 

He definitely does want to do a few other things.

“Hit you?” Anthony echoes, cupping Loki’s cheek with his free hand. “Here?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, _please._ Now if you don’t mind -”

Anthony slaps his face, and Loki’s tongue stumbles over the word. He draws in a shaking breath, his fingers digging into his thighs. The red color creeps back into his face and his tongue wets his lips, and Anthony thinks, _yeah, he definitely likes this._ It makes Anthony want to hit his prince again, until Loki either begs him to stop or forgets how to speak altogether. And wouldn’t that be a feat, making _Loki_ speechless? 

“I don’t mind,” Anthony says innocently. His thumb has found its way back to Loki’s lips; he can’t seem to get enough of touching them. 

“So it seems,” Loki says. Then, “Again.” He clears his throat. “Please.”

Learning already. Anthony has to smile. “Good boy,” he says, and promptly sees a spark of indignation in Loki’s eyes. It doesn’t last long, because Loki’s eyes flutter shut when Anthony slaps his face again.

Loki needs a moment to sort his thoughts, and while he does that Anthony runs his fingers through Loki’s hair and admires the red imprint his hand left on Loki’s cheek. It’s not quite the same shade as Loki’s blush.

“Not a dog,” Loki says finally, his voice rough.

“I wasn’t implying that you were,” Anthony replied, amused. “I was just telling you that you’re pleasing me.”

Loki doesn’t seem very convinced, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s leaning into Anthony’s touch, maybe subconsciously. He looks up at Anthony, his eyes dark. Eventually, he asks, “Again?”

Anthony grins. “Gladly.”

Loki quickly loses track of the time, but Anthony doesn’t. There’s a clock in the room, and even though looking away from Loki is getting increasingly difficult, Anthony makes sure not to get too lost in it. He alternates between slapping Loki and petting him, between muttering harsh orders to hold still and whispering praise and promises, and after fifteen minutes Loki stops talking back at him. After twenty-five he stops glaring in response when Anthony teases him, and at thirty his gaze is becoming unfocused. Thirty-five, and Loki willingly sucks at Anthony’s fingers whenever they get near enough to his lips, and his eyes keep flickering to the bulge in Anthony’s pants that is rather obvious by now. 

At thirty-nine minutes, Loki’s hand is suddenly between his legs. Anthony has to admit that he’s impressed - he didn’t think that Loki would manage to go quite this long without even touching himself, given that he’s been visibly hard for ages now -, but still, he’s not willing to let Loki get away with this. It’s about time Anthony gets his hands on a few other parts of Loki’s body as well.

“No,” he says, sharply enough to get Loki’s attention. “Stop that, sweetheart. Come here.”

Loki is confused at first, but when Anthony tugs at him a bit he gets the message and climbs up into Anthony’s lap, not even hesitating. It needs some shifting and wriggling until Loki’s legs are tucked into the space next to Anthony’s thighs and the armrests of the chair, but it’s not like they’re in a hurry. Well, Anthony isn’t, at least; Loki seems somewhat impatient. He makes a frustrated noise when Anthony puts his hands on Loki’s back instead of into his pants.

“Shh,” Anthony tells him, pulling him even closer. “I’ve got you. I want -” He lets his hands wander beneath Loki’s tunic, and feeling the surprisingly cool skin of Loki’s back makes him forget what he wanted to say. “Yes?”

One corner of Loki’s mouth pulls up into a smirk, and he nods. “Yes.”

His voice is a mess, the complete opposite of his usual smooth, velvety tone, and gods, Anthony adores it. Without further ado, he pulls Loki’s tunic over his head, glad that Loki’s stopped wearing dozens of layers when they are together. Well, Anthony would definitely still like to peel him out of those layers at some point, but not now. Now he wants to pull Loki as close as possible, until they’re chest to chest, until he can feel Loki’s breath on his lips. Loki is panting slightly as he drops his forehead against Anthony’s, and his hands on Anthony’s shoulders cling to him almost uncomfortably. 

“Something you need, darling?” Anthony murmurs, nuzzling Loki’s nose with his own. 

Loki nods quickly and he’s moving his hips, trying to grind down on Anthony’s lap. An image - no, an _idea -_ flashes through Anthony’s mind: Loki right where he is now, in Anthony’s lap, but naked and filled with Anthony’s cock, rolling his hips exactly as fast or as slow as Anthony wants. Anthony’s grip on Loki’s side tightens. _Later._ That’s something for later.

“You know what to say,” Anthony says, breathless himself.

Another frustrated noise, but then Loki mumbles a _please_ into Anthony’s mouth, and Anthony isn’t exactly sure when they have started kissing, but it’s not like he’s complaining. He’s grinning into it, too, just a bit, and has some troubles concentrating enough to open the laces of Loki’s pants and wrap his fingers around Loki’s cock. Loki makes a sound that Anthony will _never_ get out of his head and his hips are moving again, wanting to thrust up into Anthony’s fist.

“Hold still,” Anthony orders, his lips pressed against Loki’s jaw. “Let me.”

Loki lets him. He trembles a little, and he complains a bit when Anthony strokes him too slowly, but he lets him. Anthony smiles and rakes his fingernails over Loki’s back, making him squirm in both pleasure and pain. Judging by Loki’s hitched moans, this won’t take long at all, but Anthony doesn’t mind in the slightest. When Loki can’t hold still anymore, Anthony doesn’t reprimand him, instead he puts his hand on Loki’s ass and squeezes, encouraging him.

“I can’t wait to mark this pretty ass of yours,” he murmurs right into Loki’s ear, because he hasn’t forgotten Loki’s appreciation for words. “I’ll look lovely all red and bruised, and you’ll look even better begging me to keep going.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to Loki’s temple, tasting his slightly sweaty skin. He strokes Loki’s cock faster. “It’ll even do you a favor and use my hands. A nice, old-fashioned spanking over my lap, is that how my Prince wishes to be treated?”

Loki quivers and comes, gasping something that might have been a curse. Anthony strokes him through it and only stops when Loki flinches away, too sensitive. His forehead is on Anthony’s shoulder by now. Anthony kisses his temple and strokes his back, giving him time to calm down. He also wipes his hand on his own shirt and tries not to think about how badly he wants to take Loki upstairs and fuck him into the mattress.

“Okay?” he asks eventually, his tone soft.

The question seems to pull Loki out of his dozing, he stirs and then straightens his back. “Yes.” He avoids looking at Anthony directly, instead he glances downward and clears his throat. “I suppose you want me to -”

“No,” Anthony says. “It’s alright.” 

“I see.” Loki frowns and wiggles his way out of Anthony’s lap. He runs a hand through his messy hair, then bends down to pick up his tunic. “Well, then. I -”

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

Loki stills and looks down at him, still frowning. “I thought you did not want me to -”

“I meant not _right now,”_ Anthony says and jumps up, taking the tunic from Loki’s hands. He tosses it on the armchair. “I’ll want your mouth later, if that’s alright.”

“I don’t give my mouth to just anyone.”

Anthony considers it a good sign that Loki already found his sass again. He grins. “It’s good that I’m not _just anyone,_ then.”

Loki gives him a dry look, but that’s all. He doesn’t deny it, and that makes Anthony’s grin wide. He takes Loki’s hand and leads him to the stairs, and Loki lets it happen as if he doesn’t even think about any possible alternatives. 

Upstairs, there is nothing more than Anthony’s bedroom and the bathroom, and still Loki looks around with so much as interest as if it’s the goddamn vault of Asgard. He hasn’t been here before. Anthony decides that Loki can take a closer look at everything in the morning, for now the only thing he wants Loki to inspect further is the bed. 

“Come here,” Anthony says quietly, grabbing Loki’s hips to pull him closer. He wants to get him out of those pants, and the disappearance of Loki’s boots is long overdue.

Loki lets the undressing happen, too. He watches Anthony with some kind of reluctant fascination, and the tension that started gathering in his shoulders now starts to vanish. “You wish me to stay.”

“Sure.” Anthony starts to take off his own clothes. “I’ll even make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Why?” Suddenly, Loki’s voice is cold. “If you wish for repetition, you may simply say so. I don’t need any pampering.”

Anthony whole-heartedly disagrees, just like he thinks that Loki needs all the hugs in the world and more, but he doesn’t say so. He doesn’t say anything, he just finishes undressing and then takes Loki’s hand again. Just seconds later they are in the too small, creaking bed, and Anthony has wrapped himself around Loki so effectively that the prince has no other choice but to relax and sink into the warmth. 

“By the norns,” he mutters, his voice muffled by the pillow. “You’re a cuddler.”

“I am,” Anthony says proudly, kissing Loki’s shoulder. He trails his fingers over Loki’s belly. “How do you feel?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Loki sighs and turns around quite laboriously so that he can look at Anthony. He seems… tired, mostly, and wrung out. His cheeks are still a little red from all the slaps, or maybe he’s blushing again. “It was… somewhat more intense than I thought it would be."

 _Intense_ is a good word for it, probably. Anthony assumes that Loki will need at least a few days to come to terms with the fact that this isn't just something he likes in theory, but something he actually _enjoys._ Which is one reason why Anthony wants him to stay here tonight; he wants to be there if Loki freaks out.

"Good intense?” he asks. "Or bad intense?"

Loki slowly shakes his head. "No, I did like it."

"Yeah?" Anthony beams and leans in for a brief kiss. "Good. I'm glad."

Loki looks at him, almost curious, and after a long moment he smiles. "I didn't expect you to be quite this affectionate."

"Hm." Anthony lets his hand wander over Loki's side. He hasn't yet taken the time to admire Loki's whole body. Later. "Why not?"

Loki raises a brow. "You spent a considerable amount of time slapping me."

"So?" Anthony shrugs. "I like you, Loki. For me, that means I'll enjoy slapping you if you do, too, and that I'll also enjoy cuddling."

"Naked," Loki adds. "Without any ulterior motives."

"I did tell you I'll want your mouth later."

"You did." Loki frowns, but only very briefly. "I have to admit I don't feel that well leaving you unsatisfied."

"Oh, you satisfied me alright." Anthony squeezes Loki's hip. "But I won't complain if you want to postpone the nap a bit."

Loki hums. "Will you hurt me again?"

"No, I don't think so." He smiles. "I can give you orders, though, if you'd like."

"Hm. Fine."

As it turns out, Loki is not _that_ tired, and the nap has to wait. Anthony finds out that a, Loki is very talented with his tongue - not that that's a surprise -, and b, that praise is a just as effective way to get Loki off as pain.

If they spend the entire next morning in bed, too, well. That's nobody's business but their own.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Anthony wakes up because the mattress moves, and while he is prying his eyes open and gathering his senses, he also remembers _why_ the mattress is moving. He is not used to waking up to someone else moving next to him, but the first shock wears off quickly, and by the time Loki shifts to sit on the edge of the bed, Anthony is mostly awake, and also, just maybe, a little giddy. Because Loki is still _here,_ which means that last night wasn’t some kind of very nice and detailed dream. Well, last night and this morning, really; they’ve spent hours just lazing around in bed since they woke up for the first time, before sunrise. They must have fallen asleep again at some point.

Anthony sits up as well, and Loki turns his head so that Anthony can see his profile. The prince doesn’t look at him directly, though, not even when Anthony moves to kneel behind him and touches his naked back, carefully because he knows that Loki can be somewhat reluctant about being touched. But Loki doesn’t protest or pull away, even though the muscles of his back tense up a little when Anthony leans in to kiss his shoulder. Loki lets out a soft sigh and inclines his head, giving Anthony better access so that he can place more kisses along the line of Loki’s neck. Anthony smiles.

“Are you alright?” he asks, resting his chin on Loki’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Loki says, then amends, “I think.”

“You think?”

“I’m fine,” Loki says, and his voice is firmer this time. He even looks at Anthony and smiles, although only faintly. “It’s noon already.”

Anthony hums and glances at the window. “Looks like it.”

“I should go.” Loki sighs and averts his eyes again. “I am to meet my mother for tea in the afternoon, and I would like to take a bath first.”

“You can take one here, if you want. Mine’s not as luxurious as yours, I’m sure, but I can make breakfast in the meantime.”

Loki pauses. “That’s very kind,” he says then, politely. “But maybe another time.”

Anthony accepts that easily, although he _is_ a little disappointed, and not much later they are both dressed and Loki is ready to leave. Anthony steps closer to him - he wasn’t about to let Loki just disappear before Anthony has at least said goodbye properly - and kisses Loki’s cheek, grinning when he notices that Loki is blushing again, just slightly.

“When can I see you again?”

Loki looks at him, thoughtful. “I could come back tomorrow night.”

Anthony’s grin widens at that. “Great! I’ll be here.”

Loki nods, and smiles, and then he is gone.

x

Anthony spends the next two days in a bit of a haze, unable to think about anything except what Loki is doing, how Loki is doing, what they will do _together_ when they see each other again. It's all very distracting, which is why he is more than relieved when the last customer leaves his shop and he can close up for today. He still has some work to do before he can go home and prepare dinner, but if his thoughts drift off to inappropriate places again, at least there'll be no customers around to witness it.

He's working on the handle of a sword when something catches his attention. It makes him frown and put down his work, narrowing his eyes at the door that led back into the shop. He's sure that he just heard steps there and briefly wonders if he forgot to lock the door, but he is pretty sure that he _did_ lock it. So either someone broke in or… got in differently.

Anthony goes to open the door as quietly as possible, and _immediately_ something in his chest flutters in a way that's downright ridiculous.

Loki is right there, apparently so busy looking at the display of daggers that he didn't even seem to notice Anthony. He is tracing one of the blades with his fingertips, and he looks… fascinated.

Anthony pushes the door open all the way, and that finally gets Loki's attention; he straightens his back and looks at Anthony, his smile convincingly polite in a way that tells Tony that it isn’t sincere.

“Good evening,” he says. “I didn't have the chance to admire your craftsmanship the last time I was here. These daggers are lovely.”

Anthony would preen in reaction to that if he hadn’t already noticed how uncomfortable Loki looks. Uncomfortable and… twitchy. Loki's hands are fidgeting, but as soon as he sees that Anthony has noticed, he hides them behind his back, masking the movement as a mere change of posture. Anthony feels a twinge of worry.

“Thank you,” he says and makes himself smile, trying to hide his concern. “You're early.”

“Yes, I -” Loki clears his throat. “I didn't mean to interrupt your work. I can leave, of course.”

“You don't have to,” Anthony says. “It's fine. I'm just surprised you didn't come to my house, that's all.”

“I did,” Loki says, somewhat reluctantly. “But you weren't there.”

Yes, because it's not even close to the time they usually meet, but Anthony doesn't say that. It probably means that Loki just couldn't wait any longer, which would be so much _more_ than fine - well, if it's for the right reasons, that is. Judging by how tense Loki seems, he’s not very excited to be back. Or perhaps he just doesn’t _let_ himself be excited; with Loki, it’s hard to tell the difference.

“Well, I only just closed the shop.” Anthony pauses, thinking about the work he technically still needs to do, and decides that it can wait until tomorrow. “We can go and have dinner, if you’d like. I just need to put out the fire.”

Loki nods, much too curtly for Anthony’s taste, and he doesn’t say anything. Anthony looks at him and wonders if he should ask now or later, because obviously something is up. Anthony just isn’t sure if it’s Loki’s usual dismissiveness or something else. He doesn’t want to ask and make Loki get defensive, so he stays quiet for the time being and hopes that Loki will ease up a little when he realizes that he is welcome both here in the smithy and in Anthony’s house.

“I guess it would be better if we went separately,” Anthony says, although he hates that he _has_ to say it. “Go ahead and teleport, I'll be there in twenty minutes or so."

Loki’s face is blank except for a slight frown. He doesn’t move. “I could teleport us both.”

He says it as if he already knows the answer and doesn’t expect it to be a good one, but Anthony perks up, already grinning. “Seriously? You can do that?”

“Naturally,” Loki says, and his frown makes way for a stunned blink. “Someone might notice that you didn’t leave the smithy, of course. I… I could also create an illusion of you going home.”

Gods. Anthony could kiss Loki right here and now just because of the things the prince can _do._ “Alright, that won’t be necessary because they’ll just think I’m staying here for the night, but I do want to see that illusion at some point.” 

Loki seems to have forgotten that he is supposed to be tense and standoffish, because he's now looking at Anthony like he wonders if he might be dreaming. "Truly?"

"Yes, truly," Anthony said, and he grins but doesn't laugh, because something about Loki's reaction is so sad that Anthony's chest goes tight and cold. That's anger, on Loki's behalf; it's a feeling Anthony is used to. "So, how do we do this?"

Loki needs one or two seconds to figure out what he means, then his mouth twitches into a smile. Sincere, this time, although still hesitant. He holds out his hand. "We have to touch."

"There's nothing I would rather do," Anthony says, his grin turning a bit lewd.

Loki gives him a dry look, but he's not fooling anyone. Anthony already noticed the faint blush and, yes, he _missed_ seeing that, even though it hasn't even been two whole days.

Anthony goes to put out the fire and then returns to Loki, taking off his gloves. He puts them on the nearest table and takes Loki's hand. The prince's fingers are cold, but that doesn't keep Anthony from lifting them to his lips and kissing the back of Loki's hand. Loki has the gall to roll his eyes.

"You do not have to woo me, Anthony," he says. "I'm not some kind of blushing maiden."

"Maiden, no." Anthony smiles, showing his teeth. "Blushing, definitely."

And just like that the dry look turns into a glare, but Loki doesn't pull his hand back, which hopefully means that he's not actually displeased. Still, he raises a brow. "Most Aesir would know better than to mock a prince this openly."

"I'm not mocking you," Anthony says at once, frowning. "Never. Teasing, yes, but -"

"I know you meant no offence," Loki interrupts. "And even if you did, I am used to it. Shall we, then?"

There's something dismissive about Loki's smile that Anthony doesn't like. Self-deprecating humor always has a bitter aftertaste. Anthony feels like he should shower Loki in compliments as soon as possible, but for now he just nods. Loki holds his hand a little tighter.

"Close your eyes," he says. "It's not a very pleasant experience if you aren't used to it."

Anthony should probably not close his eyes as quickly and willingly as he does, but the thankful squeeze of Loki's hand is worth forgetting about his mistrusting tendencies for a moment.

Teleporting feels a little like walking down a staircase and missing the last step. Anthony’s stomach lurches and he pinches his eyes shut, trying to fight down the wave of dizziness that is threatening to overwhelm him. Thankfully, that feeling fades quickly and leaves behind a thrumming sense of exhilaration - adrenaline. He huffs a laugh and opens his eyes to find Loki smiling back at him, a little tensely. 

“Are you alright?” he asks and carefully lets go of Anthony’s hand.

“Yeah,” Anthony says, a little breathless, and looks around. They really are in the living room of his house. “Yes, I’m fine. That was _amazing._ ”

Loki’s smile becomes more sincere, and Anthony can’t help but lean in and kiss Loki’s cheek, still grinning himself. He cannot wait to get his hands all over Loki, but first - dinner. Yes. 

“I should change,” he says and pulls back just slightly. His hands have found their way to Loki’s waist, and Anthony doesn’t want to let go yet. “And have a wash. I’ve been working all day, I reek.”

“You do,” Loki agrees. “Hurry, though, I don’t have all night.”

Anthony snorts and presses his lips to the corner of Loki’s mouth this time. “Be patient, my Prince,” he murmurs, keeping his voice low just to make Loki flustered again. And Loki does look flustered, and possibly a bit amused that Anthony is using his title in a way that belongs in the bedroom rather than at court. 

Loki is also looking at Anthony’s lips, and even though Anthony would really like to kiss him properly, he just grins and squeezes Loki’s hip before he goes upstairs to get out of his work clothes.

He _does_ hurry, though, because yes, maybe he’s a bit impatient, too.

x

What Anthony sees now belongs on the list he never expected to see. Possibly right on top of it. He stops for a moment and stares, but the image doesn’t change. There’s still Loki, in Anthony’s small kitchen.

Chopping vegetables.

“What are you doing?” Anthony asks, stunned.

“What does it look like?” the prince replies, dryly. “I got bored, so I figured I could just as well start cooking.”

“You _cook?”_

“Not particularly well,” Loki admits. “I do better with a campfire and freshly caught game; it’s what we’ve been taught. But I’m certainly not worse at this than you.” He pauses, and smirks. “Then again, being worse than you at this would be quite a feat.”

“Look, I haven’t poisoned us yet, I think I deserve credit for that at least.”

“Oh, I’m not complaining. The food is hardly the reason I am here.”

That makes Anthony feel much warmer than he should. He comes to stand next to Loki and puts a hand on the prince’s back, watching Loki’s hands. He’s seen Loki wield knives often, though always on the sparring grounds, and it’s even nicer to watch from up close, even when Loki is only preparing dinner.

Then again, Loki could do anything at all and Anthony would still think it’s incredibly nice to watch.

“Loki,” he says, carefully.

“Yes?”

“I really like you, you know.”

Loki stills and looks at him, obviously surprised. He doesn’t say anything, but Anthony doesn’t need him to, not right now. 

“I just want you to know that,” he says and grabs a knife himself; together they will get dinner ready very quickly. “And if you didn’t, well, now you do, so don’t forget it. And now you can tell me what’s up.”

Loki blinks slowly. “Nothing is _up._ And we don’t both need to be chopping these, why don’t you -”

“So there’s no reason you couldn’t wait until evening?” Anthony asks, because he is having none of Loki’s deflection tactics. “There’s no reason you came to my smithy five minutes after I locked the door?”

“You shouldn’t read too much into that,” Loki tells him and yes, he’s glaring again.

Anthony holds his gaze, his eyebrows raised, and after a long moment Loki sighs and looks away, down at his hands. Anthony lets him think, and it takes a few minutes until Loki finally says, “I wasn’t feeling very well.”

“Did something happen?”

“No.” Loki shakes his head, his mouth twitching. “No, it’s merely -” Another long pause. “My father.”

That makes Anthony frown, not because he is surprised, but because it usually is a reason to worry when Odin gets involved. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

“No,” Loki says, at once. He smiles, but it’s joyless. “No, he doesn’t, but during lunch today, all I could think about was what he would _do_ if he -” He clenches his jaw and curtly shakes his head again, still not looking up. “If he did know about what we did. What I let you do.”

Anthony has to swallow himself; this line of thought is not a very happy one. But well, it’s something he is used to, because ever since he first entered the Nine, Anthony has known that he could easily be killed for it. He’s thought about leaving Asgard more than once, but his work keeps him here, and now there’s also Loki - Loki, who is taking an even bigger risk than Anthony, given who he is.

“Do you regret it?” Anthony asks, softly. 

“Oh, I should,” Loki says, and his voice is quiet and sharp. Bitter. “I know that I should. And there have been moments when I _did,_ but - well, as you can see, I came back.”

Anthony puts down his knife. “I’m happy you came back. And it - it’s _alright_ that you wanted to come back. It’s alright that you enjoyed what we did.” Loki doesn’t say anything, and for a moment Anthony just watches him, unsure what to say. Eventually, he adds, “And if you’re ashamed, then that’s alright, too. I know what that's like, and it’s - something we can work on, you know. It’ll get better in time.”

“I do not want to be ashamed,” Loki says, without looking at Anthony. “It’s exhausting.”

His dry tone makes Anthony snort. “Come here.”

Loki finally looks at him, frowning.

“I’m going to hug you now,” Anthony explains.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Anthony says, and when he pulls Loki close, he doesn’t protest.

He also doesn’t return the embrace, though, at least not at first. It takes a moment or two, but finally Loki relaxes and tentatively places his hands on Anthony’s back. When Anthony lets that happen, Loki sighs and draws him even closer, turning his head so that he can hide his face in Anthony’s hair. There is relief in the way Loki clings to him, and Anthony thinks that this is what Loki wanted all along. It makes Anthony hold him tighter and close his eyes, hoping that Loki understands that _this_ is something he is allowed to want, too. And when they pull apart and Loki smiles, Anthony is momentarily overwhelmed by the realization that yes, Anthony really does like him. 

When they go to bed after dinner, it’s more for comfort than anything else. Loki seems to need the closeness, the reassurance, and Anthony is more than happy to give it to him. More than that, he wants Loki to _know_ that, that he can always come to Anthony if he needs comfort, or reassurance, or anything at all. And maybe he does know it, because it’s Loki who makes the first move, who kisses Anthony before either of them can even think about clearing the table and doing the dishes, and from there on it’s… easy, and unhurried. Loki is more confident when he isn’t expected and trying to follow orders, so Anthony lets him set the pace. And it's no hardship, especially when he finally gets Loki naked and in bed. 

When they woke up here the last time, still half asleep and already touching, Anthony didn't have the time to appreciate this enough. Loki, laid out on the sheets, all that flushed skin and lean muscles, the touch of his hands firm and greedy as they pull Anthony closer, down into a kiss that leaves Anthony reeling. Loki kisses like he handles a knife - thorough, determined, precise. 

And gods, he's wonderful.

After, they are both out of breath and still pressing kisses against each other's skin, lazy and artless, and Anthony thinks, not for the first time, that he's in far too deep already. It shouldn’t be a surprise, that thought, but it still makes him laugh against the line of Loki's neck.

Loki hums, smiling faintly. His fingers are traveling over Anthony's back. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Anthony says, because he's so not ready to have this conversation yet. He's not used to this feeling; he doesn't love easily, and while loving might still be too big a word, Anthony can also count the people he ever had any _resemblance_ of romantic feelings for on one hand. He doesn't even need all five fingers for that.

So this? This fluttering, giddy, top-of-the-world feeling? Yes, it _is_ a surprise. Of course, he's found Loki attractive and intriguing for decades, and he desperately wanted to get to know him, but now that he _is_ actually getting to know him, Anthony thinks that what he's feeling isn't just attraction. Well, not just sexual attraction, although Anthony is feeling _that_ in abundance.

"Nothing, hm?" Loki murmurs, his voice soft like he's already dozing off.

Anthony smiles. "I just didn't expect things to turn out this way when you came to my smithy."

"No, you thought I was blackmailing you."

"Like I said, nothing personal." Anthony rests his head on Loki's shoulder. "Do you feel better?"

There's a long stretch of silence before Loki answers, but it doesn't sound like hesitance, only like thoughtfulness. "Yes, I think so."

"Are you staying the night?"

"If you don't mind."

"I definitely do not mind."

In the morning, Loki stays for breakfast.

x

The sparring grounds are crowded as always. In peaceful times like these, the Aesir have nothing better to do than bust each other's heads in and drink gallons of beer after. Most of the time, Anthony has _lots_ of better things to do, but given that he’s the most renowned weaponsmith in Asgard, he can’t _not_ attend the sparring tournaments every once in a while. It’s one of the best ways to show off his work; all he needs to do is give out weapons he made to his friends and trust that they will absolutely ruin whoever attempts to take them on.

“I think I’m going to keep this one,” James says as he comes back, grinning widely even though he’s covered in dirt and blood, most of which isn’t his. He’s still holding the spear Anthony gave him.

“Okay,” Anthony says, “but then I get whatever amount of money you just won.”

“You can have half of it.”

“Two thirds.”

“Fine. Where’s Pepper?”

“There, about to make Sif really angry,” Anthony says, nodding over to where Pepper and Sif have been dueling for a while now. “She’s going to -”

He stops.

James frowns at him, but his confusion disappears as soon as he follows Anthony’s gaze. “Great. Here we go again.”

“Shut up,” Anthony tells him absently.

“You shut up. If you keep ogling him at every chance you get, somebody’s going to notice.” 

“I’m not ogling.”

“You’re ogling so hard that your eyes are falling out of your head.”

Anthony wants to protest, but then Loki, who has just appeared on the sparring grounds along with his brother and the Warriors Three, lets his eyes wander over the square and sees Anthony, and Anthony forgets what he even wanted to protest against. It’s been a week since they last saw each other, because Loki has been awfully busy with politics and Anthony had to work on a steadily growing pile of commissions, and this is also the first time they see each other _in public_ since Loki came to Anthony’s smithy that day a few weeks ago. Something about seeing Loki here, like this, makes Anthony’s head go blank.

The last time he saw Loki, the prince’s hair was tousled from sleep and he was hiding a yawn behind his hand, raising a brow at Anthony’s questionable breakfast making skills. He was smiling too, though, at ease and _comfortable,_ the polar opposite of how he looks right now. Because right now, Loki isn’t smiling, he’s rolling his eyes at something Thor said, and he seems to be bored out of his mind even though he only just got here. His posture is pointedly casual, his back straight but his shoulders relaxed in a way that looks a little too much like it’s on purpose. His left hand is loosely wrapped around the handle of his sword, and he’s still looking around with an expression of disinterest and derision. 

Loki doesn’t take part in the sparring often; Thor probably dragged him along. Anthony wonders if he will just watch or fight himself, because that would probably be more than Anthony can bear right now. But - damn him, he still _hopes_ that Loki will fight one or two rounds, because that’s always a sight to behold.

“Gods, you’re hopeless,” James murmurs.

Anthony punches James in the side, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s too busy wanting to cross the square and kiss Loki until he doesn’t look so bored anymore. That’s not a new thought, but while he still can’t act on it for obvious reasons, at least he knows now that he _could_ act on it if he and Loki were alone right now.

Anthony isn’t sure if that knowledge is helping or not.

Loki spends the next hour just watching and making snide remarks while Thor and his friends spar. It’s something Anthony has seen a million times before; Thor and the Warriors Three fight against each other so often that there just aren’t any surprises anymore. It’s better when Sif joins them, because gods, Sif is _brilliant_ with the sword - better than Fandral even, Anthony thinks, and that’s impressive given how good Fandral is. Sif is still dueling Pepper, though, and so it’s Thor against Hogun, Thor against Fandral, Thor against Volstagg, and it’s just all kinds of dull. Nobody else ever challenges them because they are too high up on the food chain; Thor for example has to be the one to challenge other people because of his status alone. The same goes for Loki - the only time he fights is usually when Thor challenges him, because it would be rude to refuse his brother who also happens to be the crown prince. Once in a blue moon Loki dares Fandral to a duel, but he seems to prefer to stay around as long as politeness and tradition demand and then leave.

Anthony gets that; he doesn’t participate in these fights himself. Not anymore, anyway. One or two centuries ago he sparred rather often, and he’s good enough with his weapons that was challenged by Fandral and Sif once or twice, but all in all he’s still _just_ a weaponsmith, not a nobleman like his father was, and the princes and their friends are simply out of his league. 

Although that statement isn’t completely true, so Anthony thinks as he watches Loki from afar.

He tries to make it not too obvious, but Loki still catches him looking more than once. Loki doesn’t acknowledge it for the better part of the next hour, and when he finally _does_ acknowledge it, Anthony nearly has a heart attack, because suddenly Loki is moving away from his place at the edge of the square and Anthony immediately imagines all the ways this could go. He knows, rationally, that Loki won’t challenge him to a goddamn duel because that would just raise all sorts of questions, and raising questions is a risk they can’t take, but the _thought_ alone - Norns, Loki would probably wipe the floor with him, but it would be so worth it. Anthony would prefer hand to hand combat rather than a sword fight, and he’d make sure to reward Loki later, maybe with -

“Oh, this is about to get so much worse,” James groans, and Anthony blinks and tries to shake off the fantasies his brain was about to come up with.

“What?” he asks, his eyes still fixed on Loki.

Which isn’t something he has to hide anymore, because _everybody’s_ eyes are fixed on Loki right now. Because Loki just approached Fandral and demanded they spar, apparently, and yes, that’s rare enough that every present person is going to drop anything they were doing to watch.

“You know very well _what_ ,” James says. “Every time he fights, it’s like you’re six hundred again. It’s embarrassing.”

“I said shut up.”

“And dangerous.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

Everybody else has stopped fighting. Well, most of them already stopped fighting before Loki and Fandral assumed their positions across from each other, because they were all watching and cheering for Thor, anyway. Now they aren’t cheering anymore, because unlike Thor, whose existence alone is apparently reason enough to applaud him, Loki has to do a little more to earn people’s praises. And even if he won against every warrior in Asgard, the cheers still wouldn’t be as loud as they were when Thor grinned and raised his hammer.

Loki knows that, too. Anthony can tell that he knows by the way he narrows his eyes and tightens his grip on the handle of his sword. In comparison to Fandral, with his easy grin and amused eyes, Loki looks like he’s preparing for the crucial battle of a war he needs to win. He’s not uncertain, but _relaxed_ looks different.

It’s not always like that. Or maybe it wasn’t always like that. Anthony remembers a time, when both Loki and Thor were still young, when Loki’s grins came as easily as his brother’s and were even more charming. He made teasing comments that would make everybody laugh and cheer him on, and he always offered his opponent his hand to help them get back on their feet after Loki had put them on the ground. 

But Loki started using more and more magic because it is what he is good at, and Thor got the hammer and his shadow became bigger and darker, and somehow Loki’s playfulness turned bitter and cold.

Now Anthony is once more reminded of that, and as always he feels a flash of sympathy and anger on Loki’s behalf, but then Loki looks at him - as if coincidentally - and smirks, and _that_ reminds Anthony of Loki’s tousled hair and sleepy smile. Loki isn’t happy, all in all, but he wasn’t _unhappy_ that morning, and Anthony thinks that, if he can achieve that again, it might just be enough.

And so he watches as Loki beats Fandral fair and square, and maybe his brain was right earlier. 

Giving Loki a reward is a fantastic idea.

x

Three days later, Loki shows up early again. The tension bleeds out of his shoulders as soon as Anthony kisses him in greeting, and soon after they are in Anthony's kitchen, cooking again. 

Well, Loki is cooking.

He very quickly notices that Anthony is _not_ cooking, though.

He looks at Anthony, frowning. "Are you going to help?"

"No," Anthony says. "I don't think so."

Loki seems appalled at first, but when Anthony smiles at him, he actually rolls his eyes and turns back to the counter. "Is this a part of this game, then? Cooking for you?"

"It can be," Anthony says, a bit stunned. "I'm surprised you're not arguing, honestly."

"You cooked for me on more than one occasion," Loki says primly. "Repaying the favor is only polite."

"Alright," Anthony says. "Yes, I can't argue against that.”

“Do not complain if it’s inedible, though.”

“I won’t, promise.” Anthony grins, leaning against the counter. “Couldn’t you use magic to make it the best meal I’ve ever had?”

Loki glances at him, slightly wary. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious.”

“Well,” Loki says, speaking slowly as if he thinks about each word even more carefully than usual. "Creating or altering food with magic is not without risks. It should be avoided unless absolutely necessary."

"Huh," Anthony says, thinking about that. "I don't know much about magic, I'm afraid. Apart from what you’ve told me so far."

“That’s hardly your fault.” Loki smiles at him and it’s more mirthful than it should be, given what he says next. “And besides, not knowing anything about magic proves your strength of character, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Anthony says. “It just makes me look like an ignorant asshole, like the others.”

Loki snorts, and his smile becomes warmer. “You are nothing like the others. And, like I said, it’s not your fault.”

Anthony doesn’t say anything at first. He doesn’t know _what_ to say, because he doubts that taking this burden off Loki’s shoulders is something he can do. Loki has been carrying it his whole life, the shame and the guilt and the anger, and who is Anthony to tell him that he shouldn’t pay attention to what the others say? He doesn’t want to act like Loki keeping his head high is a solution, because while it’s the best way to handle the situation, it doesn’t make the _problem_ go away. The problem won’t go away anytime soon, if ever, the Aesir are too damn traditional for that. Anthony knows that very well himself, and Loki knows it, too. But still, he - he feels like he should make _absolutely_ sure that Loki knows just how brilliant Anthony thinks he is.

“I want you to stay the night,” he says, and only when Loki looks at him he realizes that it might have come out a little too demanding. “I mean, if you’re willing.”

Loki looks at him for a moment, then his gaze flickers away. “I am.”

Anthony smiles brightly; he’s already thinking about all the things they could do. The list is pretty much endless, because Anthony already had an irrationally high amount of fantasies involving Loki _before_ this started, and since then he’s only gotten new ones. But he has to remind himself that he wanted to reward Loki, which means that this is even more about what _Loki_ wants than it would be, anyway.

“Good,” he says, stepping closer to Loki. “I’m glad. I’ve been thinking about getting you alone since the moment you showed up on the sparring grounds.”

Loki glances at him, first at Anthony’s face and then downward, obviously noticing how close they’re standing to each other. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Anthony says, and even though he wants to lean in and kiss that surprised tone right off Loki’s lips, he doesn’t do that just yet. “I have some sort of… unhealthy obsession for your fighting style.”

That startles Loki into laughing, though only briefly. “I think you’re the only one. Most people seem to favor -”

“I don’t care what other people favor,” Anthony cuts him off, and finally he lets himself touch Loki. Just a hand on his lower back, for now, even though what he really wants is to press himself against Loki’s back and trap him right here, between Anthony’s own body and the kitchen counter. “For me, the way you wield a blade is just about the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” He smiles when he sees that Loki is blushing slightly in reaction, and leans in to touch his lips to Loki’s cheek, making them even pinker. “Though that’s what I can say about most things you do, if I’m honest.”

“Do you want to have dinner or go to bed?” Loki asks, sassy as ever. His hands have stopped moving by now. “Because -”

“I’ll take you to bed when I want to,” Anthony says, “and not a second earlier.” He smiles against Loki’s jaw and lets his fingers wander over Loki’s back. He’s just wearing a tunic; it would be so easy to ruck it up a little and touch Loki directly, but well. All in due time. “I’ve been waiting to touch you for days now. Thinking about what I would have done to you if we’d been alone after your fight that day is driving me _insane.”_

Loki puts the knife aside, which is probably a good idea. He turns his head to look at Anthony, his eyes wide and dark already. He still seems hesitant, uncertain, and Anthony can’t wait to make him forget about all that. Gods, he wants to take Loki _apart._

“I saw you looking,” Loki says finally. His voice is still impressively even. “I probably wouldn’t have fought at all if you hadn’t been there.”

That makes warmth pool in Anthony’s belly, a mixture of arousal and satisfaction that borders on _possessiveness._ “Then you practically fought for me,” he murmurs, smiling. “To impress me? Or to please me?”

Loki swallows, the soft _click_ of it audible. “I know you appreciate it when somebody knows how to wield a sword, given your profession, and I thought…” He trails off, then settles on, “The day had been so boring.”

Anthony has to laugh. “Yeah, I know. I was bored out of my mind until you showed up, too. Do you want me to take you to bed?”

“I -” Loki doesn’t finish, maybe because he doesn’t know how, maybe because he’s distracted by Anthony’s hand that has finally slipped under Loki’s tunic, fingertips already sneaking under the waistband of his pants. 

“Yes?” Anthony encourages, moving so that he is standing almost behind Loki, his other hand on Loki’s hip. “Tell me, Loki.”

“Tell you what?” Loki asks, breath hitching.

Anthony hides his smug smile against Loki’s neck. The power he has over Loki is exhilarating; just a few touches, some promising words, and Loki is already all flushed and breathless for him. He wonders if Loki is already getting hard, can’t see it from where he’s standing now. He resists the urge to slide his hand down Loki’s belly to see for himself. 

“What you want,” Anthony clarifies. “You fought so well that day, I want to reward you.”

“I don’t need a reward for -”

Anthony cuts Loki off by closing his teeth on Loki’s earlobe. Loki gasps, either because he’s surprised or because he likes the way it feels. Maybe both. “I’m not speaking about _need_ right now, sweetheart,” Anthony tells him. “I’m saying you deserve one.”

Loki shifts a little, his hands holding onto the edge of the kitchen counter. “I disagree.”

“That’s alright,” Anthony says. “It’s my decision, after all, not yours. Right?”

Loki takes a breath. “I suppose.”

“I’m glad we agree,” Anthony says. He strokes Loki’s side under the tunic, hoping to soothe him. “So if I decide to give you a reward, you will be good for me and accept it, won’t you?”

Loki doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but he nods and that will do for now.

“Good. Tell me what you want, then.”

“Shouldn’t you decide?” Loki says, reluctant.

“I did,” Anthony says. “I want to give you what you want.”

“I don’t -”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know anything,” Anthony says dryly. “You’ve been thinking about this, too. There have to be some things you’ve been wanting to try, otherwise you’d never have come to me in the first place.”

Loki huffs quietly. “What if I want you to decide?”

“That would be cheating.”

“How so? You didn't lay down any conditions.”

Anthony rolls his eyes and takes a small step back. “Alright, turn around.”

Loki does, and when he looks at Anthony, his expression is the very definition of petulance. It's a wonder that he doesn't cross his arms. Instead he leaves them on the counter behind him; maybe he still feels like he needs something to hold onto.

“Do you remember what I said about meeting me halfway?” Anthony asks.

“Of course,” Loki says flatly. “My memory is very good.”

“That's good,” Anthony says, “because I'd rather not have the same conversation every time we do this.”

Loki frowns. “Well, if I am already getting on your nerves, you only need to say so.”

“You're not getting on my nerves,” Anthony assures him at once, putting his hands on Loki's sides. “But I can't read your mind, and I'm scared of crossing a line. So, you know - communication. It's important.”

Thankfully, Loki looks like he understands. He stays quiet for a long moment, just watching Anthony. Still hesitant. 

“I'm not good at putting these things into words,” he admits finally, sounding as if it needed a lot of effort. His mouth twitches. “It's frustrating.”

Oh, Anthony can imagine that. For someone who's as good with words as Loki is, not knowing how to put things into words is bound to be annoying. 

“You're new at this,” Anthony says gently. “And given the circumstances, I'd be surprised if you _didn't_ find it difficult to say this stuff out loud.”

“You don't find it difficult.”

“I did too, in the beginning.” Anthony grins. “I'm sure in a few months you'll talk my ears off and I won't know what to do with myself.”

Loki chuckles faintly. “That's not an unpleasant thought.”

Anthony counts that as a win. “Yeah? You'd like that?”

“Yes,” Loki says slowly. He doesn't meet Anthony's eyes, but after a few seconds he adds, “I like it when you… want me as well.”

Anthony feels like they just skipped a few months, because now he already doesn't know what to do with himself. So he just smiles and stretches so that he can kiss Loki, feeling even warmer when Loki kisses back at once, careful but not at all reluctant. Anthony runs his hands up Loki's sides, wants to touch him everywhere, and the way Loki reacts to both the kiss and the touches is _glorious._ It seems to help him relax, or maybe it simply takes his mind off his nervousness; either way, after a while he's all but melting against Anthony and making breathy noises low in his throat every time Anthony's lips or tongue do something he particularly enjoys. Anthony grabs Loki's hips, pulling them flush against his own - or well, against his belly, given how unfairly long Loki's legs are - and oh, yes, Loki is definitely hard. It makes a wave of pure _want_ roll through him, and he has to break the kiss to keep himself from bending Loki over the counter right here and now.

Loki is out of breath, his face flushed and lips red; his tongue darts out to wet them. Norns, Anthony wants to get him naked. And in a bed.

“I do,” Anthony says, pressing his lips to the corner of Loki's mouth, his jaw. “I want you. Now, tell me what _you_ want.”

Loki sucks in a breath. “I… anything?”

Anthony doesn't think that Loki will suggest anything _extreme,_ although it's pretty difficult to predict his preferences, what with how little he has talked about them so far. “Well, within reason, but - yeah, anything.”

Loki looks at him, thoughtful, then at Anthony's mouth, finally even further down to where Loki is running the tip of his thumb over Anthony's collar bone. “Last time,” he says slowly.

“Yes?”

“There was something you said. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.”

Anthony smiles at that; he likes the thought that Loki hasn’t managed to get Anthony’s words out of his head. “Tell me.”

Loki doesn’t look at him, which is a shame - but well, that can be a project for next time, for now Anthony just wants him to get the words out. And after some time, Loki says, “You said you would spank me.”

“Is that a statement or a request?” Anthony asks. He’s already letting his hands wander downward, fingers itching to get Loki out of his pants and give him what he wants.

“A request,” Loki says, quietly, and finally looks at Anthony again. “I also -”

Anthony raises a brow. “Yes?”

Loki squirms a little, clearing his throat. “May I ask for more than one thing?”

That wording alone makes Anthony want to give him _everything_ he wants, and pleased as he is he can’t help but kiss Loki again. He keeps it brief, though, otherwise they won’t get anything done. “Yes,” he says when they break apart. His voice is a bit lower than intended, but oh well; he doesn’t think Loki minds. “You may.”

Loki runs his hands over Anthony’s shoulders, fiddling with his tunic. “I want you,” he says, “inside me.”

“Oh,” Anthony says. “Yes. Alright.”

“Alright?” Loki echoes, quirking a brow. “That’s all? No warning about how I shouldn’t want to submit to you in such a way?”

Anthony snorts and leans in, stealing another kiss. “If you want someone to tell you that you shouldn’t want to submit to me, you’ve come to the wrong address.”

“Anthony,” Loki says, his tone low and more serious than Anthony would like. “Doing _that,_ or just thinking about it, would be bad enough for a man who isn’t in my position.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t matter to me.” Anthony gives Loki’s hips a reassuring squeeze. “I’d never think less of you because of it. I don’t get why everybody thinks it’s so bad, anyway; it doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s womanly,” Loki says, in a dry tone that tells Anthony that Loki is aware how ridiculous and awful it is.

“Yes,” Anthony says, “and a woman is such a shameful thing to be.”

Anthony’s sarcasm makes Loki smile. “I’m glad we agree.”

“We do.” Anthony doesn’t want to keep talking about all the ways and reasons Asgard sucks, not now, but there’s one more thing he wants to know. “Have you done it before?”

Loki seems ashamed; he looks away again. “Yes. But not - not as me. I always shifted before… well.”

Anthony is overcome by such a strong wave of fondness that he doesn’t know what to do with himself for a second. The thought that he’s the first man Loki trusts enough to tell him this at all, to _ask_ for this, without any shapeshifting or hiding involved, is… almost too much, really. Anthony can only hope that he won’t make a giant mess of it all.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m honored, then.”

Loki smiles at him, and it’s just a little strained. “So my requests are to your satisfaction?”

“Oh, more than,” Anthony says and takes a step back. He grabs Loki’s hand, pulling him out of the kitchen. “I’m proud of you, for telling me.”

Hearing that seems to make Loki slightly uncomfortable, but he doesn’t protest as Anthony leads him up the stairs. “What about dinner?”

“Loki, I haven’t been alone with you in almost two weeks.”

“So?”

“Did you really think I could sit through dinner without getting you horizontal first? I’m not that patient.”

“I wasn’t aware that I had this much of an effect on you,” Loki says, his smile and tone smug enough that Anthony thinks that Loki is finally starting to adjust to the fact that he _has_ this much of an effect, and then some.

“Then I’d better show you, huh?” He grins and lets go of Loki’s hand to open the door of the bedroom. “Stand in front of the bed.”

Loki throws him a wary look but obeys, and if that isn’t a thrill worth waiting for, Anthony doesn’t know what is. He gives the door a nudge with his foot to close it and follows Loki into the room, taking him in. Loki is tense - nowhere near as tense as he was on the sparring grounds, but he’s keeping his guard up, anticipating Anthony’s next move. Doubtlessly already planning his reaction to a dozen possible orders, because Loki doesn’t enjoy being unprepared. Anthony wishes Loki felt safe here, and _calm;_ what he wants is for Loki to be certain that Anthony will care of him, to let him handle the thinking and just concentrate on doing as Anthony says, but well. That’s something Anthony will have to earn, and he’s very set on doing so.

“If you want to stop,” Anthony says and steps closer to Loki, “or just need a break, or if anything makes you even remotely uncomfortable - tell me.”

“I will,” Loki promises, watching Anthony closely.

“Good. Take off your clothes, then.”

Loki raises a brow, but he slips out of his boots. “Don’t you want to undress me yourself?”

“I want you to do as I say,” Anthony says. “Can you do that?”

It’s a sincere question, and he can tell that Loki treats it as such by the way he pauses, looking at Anthony for a second, then two, then three, before he finally nods. He’s blushing again and his lips are parted slightly, and even though the bulge in his pants isn’t as obvious as it was in the kitchen, he seems excited enough. Eager even, but battling nerves.

“Good.” Anthony smiles. “You’re doing well. Your shirt.”

Loki hesitates just briefly before he pulls the tunic over his head. Norns, Anthony feels honored because of _that_ alone; in public, Loki always wears two or three layers at least, but now that his shirt is gone, he’s naked from the waist up. There’s a bruise on his side, colored yellow and faintly green; Anthony looks at it and remembers the kick Fandral aimed at Loki’s torso. He must have fractured a rib or two, otherwise it would have healed already. Anthony will have to keep in mind not to put too much pressure on them.

Loki pushes his boots aside with his foot and places his folded tunic on top of them. His pants and underwear follow shortly after and then he just stands there, his hands by his sides and an almost challenging look on his face.

Anthony could look at him for ages. He's seen him naked before, but he's still floored. Loki is _gorgeous;_ it's a shame that he always hides under all those layers, high collars and long sleeves. Then again, if he sparred shirtless like Thor does sometimes, it would probably give Anthony an aneurysm.

"So?" Loki says, impatient, and Anthony thinks that maybe he's been staring for too long. "Do you just want to stare at me all night?"

"I could," Anthony says and steps forward into Loki's personal space to let his fingers trail over Loki's abdomen, the defined lines of his hip bones. "I like looking at you. Soon I'll have you get on that bed and touch yourself for me, and I'll get a chair and stare until I'm satisfied." He smirks and starts to usher Loki the last steps to the bed. "But not tonight. Lie down."

Loki glances over his shoulder quickly and then he obeys, crawling backward until he's in the middle of the bed. Anthony takes off his own shoes and follows Loki, his hands on Loki's knees to keep them apart. He kneels between Loki's legs and enjoys how Loki's wide eyes are so entirely focused on him, as if Anthony is the only thing he can concentrate on right now. It calms Anthony somewhat, knowing that even though Loki is still watching his every move, he _is_ relying on him. It also makes Anthony feel like his pants are at least two or three sizes too small.

He moves his hands up along Loki's legs, feels the strong muscles of his thighs. Loki could kick him off easily, but he won't. He doesn't move, just lies there propped up on his elbows and watches as Anthony touches him. Anthony briefly thinks about telling Loki to lie back and relax, but being able to watch what Anthony is doing probably makes him feel safe. Anthony wonders how Loki would react to the suggestion of being blindfolded; maybe he would panic, but it could also make giving up control easier for him. Anthony should bring it up some time, but for now -

"This for me?" he asks, his smile turning into a bit of a leer as he puts his hand on Loki's belly, close enough to his cock to be a tease. Loki is perfectly hard by now - apparently arousal won against nerves, in the end - and Anthony really wants to taste him. He hasn't done that yet, which is pretty unfair, but the other times he was so determined to get his hands all over Loki that he didn't think about using his mouth as well.

"No," Loki deadpans, pulling Anthony out of his musing. "I have another date tonight."

"Really?" Anthony says. "Then I probably shouldn't touch it, should I?"

He puts his hand back on Loki's thigh, and at once Loki glares at him, offended. "I was joking."

"I know." Anthony squeezes Loki's thigh. "But I don't like hearing you joke about that. Because right now? You're mine."

Loki swallows visibly, his eyes darkening even more. "Possessive," he says, almost whispers.

Oh. Anthony freezes, wondering if he went too far now. His first instinct is to apologize, but considering the way Loki looks at him, perhaps that's not even necessary. "Do you mind?"

Loki slowly shakes his head, and Anthony leans down to kiss him, because there's nothing else he can do, really. Loki gasps into the kiss, lips partening for Anthony's tongue easily, and Anthony thinks that they could spend the next hour doing just this without getting bored. Still, he chuckles and sits up, catching hold of Loki's wrist when Loki tries to pull him back down.

"Greedy," he teases, a bit winded himself. "Turn over. I want you on your stomach."

Loki wrinkles his nose, seemingly annoyed that he has to move, but apart from that he doesn't protest and rolls onto his stomach, not without grabbing a pillow he can rest his arms and head on. Anthony snorts, more fond than anything, and Loki turns his head to the side, peering back at Anthony as well as he can. Watching again.

Anthony moves to the side so that Loki can turn around, and he stays kneeling next to him. As he lets his gaze wander over Loki's back, his mouth goes a little dry.

"Gorgeous," he murmurs, stroking up Loki's side. Loki's skin is cool and smooth, and the muscles tense under Anthony's touch. "You're lovely like this, all bare and ready for me."

Loki makes an impatient sound. "You can get on with it. I don't need -"

"Coddling?" Anthony finishes for him, his tone dry. He's not sure why Loki pretends he doesn't like it when Anthony compliments him; he already admitted that once. "I'm not coddling you, Loki, I'm telling the truth."

"But I thought you wanted -"

He stops talking when Anthony straddles Loki's lower back, keeping his weight on his own knees. Anthony smiles in reaction to the quiet but sharp intake of breath he just heard. He brushes Loki's hair aside so that he can touch his shoulders, fingers digging into the tense muscles there. The noise Loki makes now is not impatient at all and much more similar to what Anthony wants to hear.

"What I want," he says softly, "is to make you feel good, and you'll let me. Won't you?"

Loki nods against the pillow. His eyes flutter shut when Anthony keeps up the massage, and that's just what Anthony wants. He moves his hands further down, taking care to avoid the bruise on Loki's side while he kneads the tension right out of Loki's muscles. It takes surprisingly little time until Loki is pliant beneath him; Anthony wonders how long it's been since Loki was touched like this, taken care of. He doesn't seem used to it, and he soaks the affection up like a sponge.

Satisfied with his work, Anthony bends down to kiss Loki's back, tracing his spine with his lips. "You still with me, Lokes?"

Loki grunts softly. "I haven't fallen asleep if that's what you mean."

His voice is muffled by the pillow, and it's goddamn adorable. Anthony doesn't say so, though; there's probably only so much Loki can take. He smiles, anyway, and shuffles back on his knees until he's straddling Loki's thighs. When he digs in his thumbs right above the curve of Loki's ass, Loki makes an appreciative noise that goes straight to Anthony's cock. He can't think about what sounds Loki will make when Anthony fucks him; that could make him come in his pants as if he's five centuries younger, and that would be embarrassing as hel.

"I've been thinking about this," Anthony says, cupping Loki's ass and squeezing; he can't wait to make it red and sore. "Hurting you again. You were perfect last time. And you loved it, didn't you?"

Loki's breaths are getting shallow again and loud enough that Anthony can hear them. He nods, his face half hidden by the pillow.

The slap sounds louder than it really is in the otherwise quiet room. Loki gasps and Anthony smirks, soothing the spot he just hit with a caress. 

"Use your words," he says. "Do you like it when I hurt you?"

Loki takes a few breaths, then he manages, "I do."

Oh, his voice is a mess already. Anthony adores it, adores that he can _make_ Loki a mess this easily. It's glorious.

"Perfect," he says warmly. "Doing so well, honey." Loki hides his face in the pillow, but that doesn't hide his blush; Anthony can see the tip of Loki's right ear and it's flaming red. He chuckles. "Do you want more?"

"Yes," Loki murmurs, almost too quiet to be audible.

"Yes?"

Loki huffs. "Do you want me to beg?"

Even though Loki can't see it, Anthony grins. “Good idea.”

Loki's annoyed groan is stifled by the pillow. He shifts, hips moving under Anthony's hands, probably searching friction; his cock must be aching to be touched by now. He doesn't say anything, though, and Anthony moves his hands over Loki's ass and thighs and lower back, stroking and fondling and pressing his fingers into the flesh. It makes Loki squirm; he's tired of waiting.

“Loki,” Anthony says finally. He knows that Loki doesn’t like asking for what he wants, because he’s too used to not getting it, but Anthony will get him there. “One word is enough.”

Loki gets it and mutters a “please”, and even though Anthony would prefer it if it had come out a little louder, he doesn’t push Loki any further.

Instead, Anthony rewards him with another slap, this time on Loki's other cheek and hard enough that it must actually _hurt._ Loki gasps and his hips twitch upward as if to chase the touch of Anthony's hand. Anthony doesn't make him wait too long and smacks him again, adoring the way Loki reacts. He doesn't manage to hold still and Anthony doesn't tell him to; he quite likes feeling Loki squirm under him. 

"So responsive, aren't you?" Anthony underlines the question with a slap, then buries his nails in the already reddened skin. "So good for me. Shit, you're brilliant."

He spanks Loki several times in quick succession, and by the time he stops to stroke Loki's ass instead, Loki is panting into the pillow, fingers clinging to the fabric. Anthony keeps on slapping him, until Loki's skin is red and burning hot just like Anthony's palm, until he's making the most gorgeous sounds, gasps and moans that come from somewhere deep in his chest. To his credit, Loki never once tries to get away; he stays where he is and takes what Anthony gives him, and he takes it beautifully. Anthony is still not over the fact that he actually _gets to do this,_ and he can't get enough of just looking at Loki, drinking him in. Because he's a vision like this, loving the pain so much that he's already rocking his hips against the mattress. Just slightly, as if he doesn't know if he's allowed. Actually -

“Are you humping the bed, sweetheart?” Anthony asks, grabbing Loki's hips to hold them still. “Did I give you permission?”

Another smack, and Loki makes a sound that sounds suspiciously - and wonderfully - like a whimper. Loki stops moving, too, forcing his hips to hold still, and yeah, Anthony adores him. He climbs off Loki, who immediately turns his head as far as he can to look at what Anthony is doing. His eyes are dark, unfocused.

"Anthony -"

"Not going anywhere," Anthony soothes at once. He kneels next to Loki on the bed and gets his hands under Loki's hips, nudging them upward. "Up."

Loki doesn't protest, doesn't even sigh in annoyance, he just willingly pushes himself up on his knees. Anthony uses his hand to keep Loki's shoulders down on the mattress, and Loki rests his head on his arms, hiding his face again. He's beautiful, and Anthony can't keep himself from running his hands over Loki's back in awe. His ass is just as red as Anthony imagined it would be, and it's probably just as sore, too. Maybe Anthony went a little harder on him that he should have, but judging by how pliant Loki is now, he doesn't mind in the slightest.

"Okay?" Anthony asks. "Your ribs?"

Loki murmurs something that sounds vaguely like _I'm fine,_ which is enough for Anthony. He slides his hand down between Loki's legs, where his cock is hard and heavy, leaking at the tip. Loki lets out a hitching groan when Anthony wraps his hand around the base and proceeds to give Loki's cock a few slow strokes. 

"You love this," Anthony muses, pleased with himself and most of all with Loki, who is trying and failing to keep himself from thrusting into Anthony's fist. Anthony uses his other hand to squeeze Loki's sensitive ass, relishing in the moan that earns him. "You may come whenever you're ready, but tell me when you're close, do you hear me?"

Loki quickly nods against his arms. Anthony makes a pleased noise himself. He alternates between spanking Loki and stroking him off, and it doesn't take long until Loki can't even try to stifle his moans anymore. He doesn't seem to know what to do with himself, whether to push up against the hand that keeps hitting him or down against the one that's stroking him.

"Anthony," he gasps without lifting his head, tongue stumbling over the syllables. "I - ah -"

Anthony takes pity on him immediately. "Close?"

_"Yes -"_

"Good boy," Anthony says and strokes him faster, wanting to see him fall apart. "Do it, Loki. Come for me."

It takes a few more seconds, but then Loki _is_ coming, thighs tensing and toes curling while he spills onto the sheets. Anthony strokes him through it until Loki whines softly, too sensitive, then he goes back to touching Loki's back, chasing the shivers that still run through his body. 

Loki is pretty much lying on his stomach again, limp as he is, and it doesn't take a lot of prodding to turn him onto his back. Anthony lies down next to him - well, half on top of him - and supports himself on the mattress while he trails kisses along the line of Loki's shoulder, his neck, his jaw. Loki's chest is still heaving, and he is hiding his eyes under his forearm, as if that does anything to hide how flushed he is.

"Good?" Anthony asks softly. "Was that what you wanted?"

Loki nods, not even hesitating. He finally takes his arm away and looks up at Anthony out of still dazed eyes, licking his lips. "Do you," he starts, his voice rough and quiet, "do you still want to -"

"To fuck you?" Anthony says, and Loki lets out a breath in reaction, relieved that Anthony understands. "Do you want me to?"

Loki nods. "Please," he says softly, and this time it comes to him much more easily.

Anthony smiles at him and rolls off Loki to get out of bed. He takes off his clothes, aware that Loki is watching him, and takes the small bottle with oil out of the nightstand. He tosses it on the bed and goes to kneel between Loki's legs, nudging his knees to spread them further. He can't help but palm his own cock, needing at least some relief so that he doesn't get too impatient. Loki's gaze is drawn to the movement, and the satisfaction is clear on his face; apparently he likes what effect he has on Anthony.

"Like this?" Anthony asks, his hands on Loki's thighs. He can't get enough of how his hands look on Loki's body, doesn't think that he'll _ever_ get enough of it. "Do you want to watch?"

Loki nods and props himself up on his elbows, his eyes fixed on Anthony. He watches as Anthony opens the bottle and slicks his fingers to slip them between Loki's cheeks. He rubs against Loki's hole carefully, and a first digit slides in easily enough. Loki doesn't tense up, he just sighs and lets Anthony work his finger in; yes, he's done this before. His cock gives an interested twitch. Anthony takes his time getting Loki slick and ready, enjoying how Loki clenches down on his fingers now and then while he watches Anthony out of half-lidded eyes.

"You've thought about this," Anthony says, his own voice rough now. He thinks about Loki touching himself, clenching down on his _own_ fingers while thinking about Anthony, and hel, maybe Anthony _should_ hurry up a little, after all.

"Yes," Loki says, his voice thick. He's much more relaxed now, though - an orgasm will do that to you - and he smirks, even, his lips red from when he's been biting them earlier. "Many times."

Anthony returns the smirk. "Me too. When you sparred that day - I wanted to fuck you right then and there. In front of everyone."

Something flares up in Loki's eyes, a mix of shame and pure want. The flush spreads down to his throat and chest by now.

"You'd like that," Anthony says, now pushing two fingers in and out of Loki. "Letting everybody see that you're mine?"

"That's not possible," Loki says at once. "We - _oh."_

Anthony grins. That was Loki's prostate, then. "I'll take you back to the Nine one day," he promises. "It's possible there."

Loki nods, but Anthony isn't sure if his words actually registered, because Loki seems somewhat distracted by the fingers in his ass. Anthony decides to pull them out and get some more oil to slick his cock, anticipation and heat pooling in his belly. He rubs the head of his cock against Loki's entrance, and Loki lets out a shaky breath and lies down properly, his fingers grasping the sheets beneath him. Anthony kind of wants to hear him beg, but he's too impatient for that himself - and besides, Loki's soft moan when Anthony pushes in is pleasant enough.

Loki is warm and impossibly tight, and Anthony curses inwardly, grabbing Loki's thighs and keeping them apart. He fears that this isn't going to last long at all, but after a few shallow thrusts he's already too blissed out to care. Loki is breathing slowly but heavily, as if he has trouble getting enough air into his lungs. When Anthony starts thrusting into him with a little more force, Loki lets out a low whine.

"Anthony -"

"I'm here," Anthony says and grabs Loki's hips, pressing his fingers into the skin. He _desperately_ wants to leave bruises there. "I've got you."

Loki makes a sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a moan, breathless and pleased, and Anthony has to smile himself. Loki tries to roll his hips and meet Anthony's thrusts, gasping every time Anthony brushes his prostate. Once, Loki reaches for his cock, but Anthony immediately leans forward and takes Loki's wrist, pinning it to the bed. 

"Patience," he says, slowing the movement of his hips. Loki clenches down on him just perfectly. "You come because of my hand or cock or not at all, is that clear?"

Loki doesn't reply, he just pants and keeps his eyes shut.

Anthony fucks into him once, rougher than before. "Is that _clear,_ Loki?"

"Yes," Loki gets out, the word almost swallowed by a whimper when Anthony keeps up the rough pace.

Not that Anthony will be able to keep that up for long; he's embarrassingly close already. But he's been wanting this for so long, and now that he _has_ it - Loki, writhing and gasping under him - well, he can't be expected to draw this out any longer. Loki doesn't try to touch himself again, but when Anthony reaches for Loki's cock, Loki mutters Anthony's name as if he's _thankful,_ and Anthony thinks that this time, he'll be the one falling apart because of this.

And he does, eventually. He feels the heat rise and pleasure pool, and he only just remembers to stroke Loki faster and more firmly and then he's already tumbling over the edge, pushing himself deep into Loki as he spills inside him. Anthony tries to catch his breath and gather his senses as quickly as he can, to concentrate on Loki - Loki, who seems to be awfully close as well.

"Come on," Anthony says, his voice warm, spurring Loki on. He's still moving his hips , riding out the aftershocks even though it's almost too much. He stares down at Loki, at how lovely he looks when he's just seconds away from coming, and all for Anthony. "Again, Loki. For me."

Loki murmurs something incomprehensible, the words getting lost between gasps when Anthony reaches out with his other hand to slide it up Loki's chest and finally pinch his nipple, hard enough to make Loki keen. And maybe that's what Loki's been missing, a little bit of pain, because now he cries out and comes all over his stomach, panting. His hand has mindlessly grabbed Anthony's, clinging to it for dear life, and Anthony lets him.

He waits until Loki's breathing is at least sort of even again, then Anthony pulls out and lets himself fall onto the bed next to Loki, who immediately tucks himself against his side. Loki hides his face in the crook of Anthony's neck, his breaths still shallow. Anthony chuckles and strokes his back.

"Alright?" Anthony asks gently.

Loki hums, apparently not able to do much more than that. 

"Do you want me to get something to clean us up?"

Loki shakes his head and throws one of his legs over Anthony's. The message is clear - _stay._

There's nothing Anthony would rather do, so he stays.

x

When they finally get around to eating dinner, it's so late in the night that it might as well be morning. Loki sits down at the table somewhat gingerly, and Anthony pulls his chair over to Loki so that he can sit right next to him.

"You're clingy," Loki comments idly.

Oh. Yes, Anthony guesses he _is_ clingy, a bit. Mostly he's just happy. "Problem?" 

Loki smiles and shakes his head. "No."

He starts to eat as if he's starving, which he probably is. They napped for a bit, but Loki still looks tired, and at times a little lost. Anthony told him in no uncertain times that he's goddamn brilliant, and Loki doesn't seem to know how to handle that. Anthony gets it - Loki likes the praise, craves it even, he just doesn't know how to deal with it. Anthony is already playing with the thought to tie Loki up at some point and _make_ him deal with it, but well, that's a project for another day.

"Do you mind if I stay until morning?" Loki asks when they are both done eating. He doesn't sound hesitant - no, he sounds like he already knows the answer, and maybe that's one of the best things about this night.

"I'd be insulted if you didn't stay," Anthony tells him, grinning.

Loki rolls his eyes at him, but he can't be too annoyed, because he proceeds to drag Anthony back to bed and entwine their limbs so thoroughly that Anthony isn't sure anymore who of them starts and ends where. Loki is asleep within seconds, and again Anthony thinks that, yep, he's definitely in too deep already.

It might be worth it, though.

**Author's Note:**

> There will probably be more chapters? Eventually? I don't even know. I hope you liked it!


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